


Decode

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: (kind of), Also Some Necessary OC's, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Basically I Just Threw Half Of The Characters In, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forced Marriage, Homophobia, I Hope This Is Okay, Injury, M/M, Minor Background Relationships, PruAus - Freeform, Sort-Of-But-Not-Really-Cheating, They're Not All Majorly Important Though, Unrequited AusHun, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 08:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1933266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roderich Edelstein had always assumed that when he finally came out to his parents, they would accept it. He could not have been more wrong.<br/>Instead, he is forced to propose to his best friend, Elizabeta Hedervary, so that his parents can have the "ideal son" they always thought he was.<br/>However, the appearance of Elizabeta's entrancing step-brother, Gilbert, might just complicate things.</p><p>(I'm sorry, I can't write summaries for anything.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> I've been planning this fic for a while, and here we are! This is my first PruAus fic, so I hope they're in character.  
> (Also, I promise not to make Hungary into a villain - I hate it when people do that in PruAus fics, and I like her anyway.)  
> I know I didn't really get much of their personalities through with this one, but I'll sort that out! This chapter was just the whole scene-setting one, so it's less about their characterisation and more about the plot.

Roderich's head was spinning. His mouth was dry, but he was sweating buckets. It seemed as if all of a sudden, the earth was spinning too quickly, like he couldn't keep up with what was happening.

"Roddy?" Came a concerned voice from across the table. "Are you all right?"

"Elizabeta..." He managed to croak out, struggling to his feet, knowing he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life. _I can't do this._

"Roddy!" His best friend's green eyes were now wide with panic, as she gracelessly leapt to her feet, knocking over her chair and causing the heads of almost every other diner in the ridiculously over-priced restaurant to swivel round and stare at the couple. "What's wrong?"

Dropping to his knees, Roderich just about managed a smile, gazing up at Elizabeta with what he hoped was a loving, charming expression, and not a grimace. "Elizabeta... Will you marry me?"

 

* * *

 

 

*Three hours earlier*

 

Today was the day. He was finally going to do it. Yes, today was the day when Roderich Edelstein would finally "come out of the closet," so to speak. God knows Tino had been nagging him about it for long enough.

"You'll be fine, Roddy!" The Finn had assured him, smiling kindly. "Your parents are so nice, I'm sure they'll understand."

Roderich had been so nervous that he hadn't even reprimanded Tino for calling him "Roddy". He'd left college that day feeling as if he'd spent the day on a huge, rocking boat in the middle of the sea. Of course, he knew - or, thought he knew - that Tino was right. Roderich's parents were very loving and accepting of him, so surely this wouldn't change anything between them.

This latter part had become Roderich's mantra, silently chanting it to himself as he made his way through the streets of London, from college to the huge house that the Austrian family had recently bought.

"Roderich? Is that you?" His mother called from the living room, the second he opened the front door.

"Yes, mother," he replied automatically, and was just about to set off for his music room (and his beloved piano) when he remembered his "mission". He mentally composed himself, and, with a deep breath, entered the living room.

His mother and father were sprawled across separate, expensive white leather sofas, their feet resting on the armrests. Roderich frowned - his parents were extremely fussy about furniture, and if they'd seen him doing that, he'd have been banned from his piano for a week. But now was no time to dwell on that. He sat down carefully on the velvet armchair, biting his fingernails (an old nervous habit of his).

"Roderich, don't do that," his mother frowned, but his father smiled, his dark eyes lighting up.

"What's up, my boy?" He asked, with that old grin that could always make Roderich feel at ease. "What's on your mind, hm?"

"I have something to tell you both," Roderich informed them, his stiff posture relaxing a little.

"You're pregnant?" His father joked, eyes widening comically.

"Stefan!" Roderich's mother hissed.

"All right, all right, sorry. Um... You failed your test?"

"I seriously hope you haven't, Roderich," Nadine Edelstein interjected, but her lips were graced with a small smile now.

"Oh, I know!" Stefan exclaimed. "You're converting to Christianity?"

"Maybe you've finally asked that lovely Hungarian friend of yours on a date?" Nadine asked, her face expectant.

"No, and I doubt I'll ever be going "on a date" with Elizabeta," Roderich began. "I'm-"

"You've found someone else?" Nadine's face fell in disappointment. "But we _like_ Elizabeta. Can't you reconsider this new girl?" She asked, only half joking.

"It's not any girl. I'm... I'm gay," Roderich winced, closing his eyes, feeling as if he'd never be able to open them again.

Everything was silent for a moment. Roderich squeezed his eyes shut tighter, as if not being able to see the scene in front of him could make it change. _They haven't sent me away, at any rate. It can't be that bad,_ he thought to himself, but he still didn't dare open his eyes.

At least, not until the sound of laughter cut through the living room. Roderich's eyes opened ever so slowly, to see his father in hysterics, and his mother wearing a worried expression.

 _"Stefan, this isn't funny!"_ The tone of her voice alone was enough to frighten Roderich. He'd seen her angry, he'd seen her scared, but he'd never heard her use that tone of voice before. He was just about to excuse himself when Stefan straightened up, trying (and failing) to pull his face into a serious expression.

"Sorry, Nadine. But, Roderich, son, that was hilarious!"

 _All right. They didn't take it well. It's fine, I'll just pretend I was joking or something - No!_ Roderich shook his head almost wildly. _I have to stop letting people push me around. It's getting ridiculous. Really, and you wonder why Elizabeta feels she has to defend you all the time._ So, despite his (other) inner voice screaming that this was a terrible idea, he stood up, and marched to the centre of the room, head held high. "I wasn't joking."

His father ignored this, still chuckling. "You never really one for jokes, but if I'd known you could tell ones like that, I'd encourage you to be a comedian! What other funny stuff have you got for us?" He asked, his cheerful expression changing into something dark and sinister. "Have you found some guy already, huh? In fact, how many have you fucked already, Roderich? I bet you're the new school whore, aren't you?"

Roderich was astounded, frozen in fear, unable to move even when his father leapt up from the sofa and started prowling towards him, with an icy glare.

"Stefan, wait!" Nadine jumped up, placing herself between her husband and her son. "Calm down!"

Roderich had never been more grateful for his mother than he was in that moment. He began to speak, but she silenced him with a flick of her hand, talking over him as if he wasn't even there. "It's okay, honey," she soothed her husband. "This is just some silly phase he's going through. He doesn't know what she's saying."

"Mother, I-"

"Be quiet!" She snapped, her voice as icy as his father's eyes. "Look, we can sort this out. It's easy. Roderich just has to marry Elizabeta."

"Excuse me?" Roderich protested, but was quickly silenced by a glance from his mother, and he decided that the best thing to do was probably keeping quiet.

Stefan was nodding now. "Once he learns a woman's love, he'll think it was silly he ever thought he was-" He cut off, apparently unable to even speak the word. He turned to his son, his eyes wide and amiable as if it was all a joke again. Roderich almost wished that it was.

"Son, phone Elizabeta and arrange a romantic dinner date at our favourite restaurant - The Crimson Swan, of course! Don't worry about the ring - my mother gave me one to pass down before she died," Nadine instructed, not even turning to look at her son as she stalked through to her bedroom.

"No!" Roderich insisted. "How dare you - you cannot force me to marry someone!"

"Oh, but we are," Stefan replied, that manical gleam back in his eyes. "And if you don't..." He gave a sinister laugh. "Well, I'm sure we can think of something suitable."

 

* * *

 

 

It was madness. Pure and utter madness. Roderich glared down at the beautiful gold and emerald ring, thinking about how good it would look on Elizabeta, and wishing he could give it to her under different circumstances. She had been his closest friend for years, and of course had accepted his invitation with delight. _Oh, if only you knew what you were getting in to._

Roderich had debated begging her to say no, or perhaps not even proposing at all, and just lying to impress his parents. Both of these ideas had been shot down when his mother had announced that they would be sitting at a nearby table, to ensure that it all "went smoothly".

Damn it. It was all so unfair, but Roderich wasn't about to get all mopey and self-pitying. _Maybe I'll just convince her afterwards to break up with me. Yes, indeed. I can do that._

He stood up from his bed, changing into his long dinner jacket and cravat, and trying unsuccessfully to flatten that one lock of hair on his head that sprang up ridiculously.

If he knew that his parents could be like that...

"Roderich! Come on, we're leaving!" His father bellowed from the hallway.

And to top it all off, his parents had chosen to go to The Crimson Swan. Because why not ruin all of his great memories at that place with what would surely be a disastrous proposal?

"RODERICH!"

_I'm very sorry, Elizabeta..._

 

* * *

 

 

Dropping to his knees, Roderich just about managed a smile, gazing up at Elizabeta with what he hoped was a loving, charming expression, and not a grimace. "Elizabeta... Will you marry me?"

He produced the ring, the gold glittering like the deadly gleam in his father's eyes earlier that day.

Elizabeta stared at him, and then stared at the ring, for what seemed like a very long moment. Eventually, a wide smile split her face, and she reached out and pulled him to his feet, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him on the cheek.

"Yes, yes," she whispered against his ear, and when she pulled away, her green eyes were shining. She took the ring, sliding it on to her finger as if experimentally. "But... How did you know?"

"Excuse me?"

"How did you know that I love you?" She asked, and every word felt like a bullet to Roderich's chest. "I thought I made it pretty obvious, but you never seemed to have a clue."

Roderich laughed uncomfortably, and, before he could stop himself, turned to his parents, his violet eyes wide in horror. However, when he met their gaze, he understood.

_They knew. They knew that she loved me. They did this on purpose. She loves me, and they knew that I'd feel too guilty to break it off. Oh my..._

Roderich forced himself to detach himself from the crisis going on inside his mind, instead forcing himself to look at Elizabeta with a smile. The other diners were all applauding, and their waiter had even brought over a large and fairly expensive bottle of champagne, and the crazy, stingy part of Roderich's mind hoped that he wouldn't have to pay for that. He forced himself to send a nod of thanks towards the waiter, and he sat back down with Elizabeta, pouring himself a large glass of champagne for what would certainly be a very long night.

 


	2. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, thanks for reading, bookmarking and kudosing (is that a word yet?) (spellcheck says it isn't).  
> Hope you enjoy the new chapter! I tried to find appropriate names for everyone's parents, but as I got them off the ever-unreliable internet, I don't know how realistic they are in terms of first names.  
> Also, I have zero experience in writing these characters so please let me know if I get OOC or anything.

"Roderich... Roderich?" Elizabeta sang, gesturing around at the apartment. "What do you think?"

"Oh, pardon me," Roderich shook his head and tried to focus, blinking at the bright white and hot pink walls (Elizabeta called them "fashionable"), the cramped spaces ("cosy"), and the general tiredness of the place ("lived in"). _Frankly, it's horrific._ "It's lovely, darling," he said, forcing a smile at his excited fiancée.

She looked doubtful. "We can always paint the walls, if you don't like them. And I'm sure we can fit your piano in somewhere," Elizabeta looked around, desperately trying to find extra space in the tiny flat.

"It's fine, really." Roderich insisted - but after endless hours of house hunting, he would have called a mud hut "fine". He turned to the tall, bearded salesman, and agreed to buy the apartment.

"I'm so excited," Elizabeta rambled as they left the block of flats. "I've booked the venue as well - that lovely church we agreed on - and we can have the wedding next month! Of course, we'll need to plan everything quickly..."

Roderich zoned out when his fiancée started talking about the dreaded wedding, nodding politely every now and again. They'd been engaged for two weeks now, and had spent the majority of the time either house hunting or planning the wedding. In the little spare time he had, Roderich had been considering the politest and least hurtful way to break the wedding off - and had come up with absolutely nothing, cursing himself all the while for being such a pushover when it came to his parents. Ever since childhood, he'd done whatever they wanted, although he hadn't realised the full extent of their power over him until he'd tried to "come out of the closet," so to speak.

"Roddy? Did you hear what I just said?" Elizabeta asked, frowning up at him.

"Sorry, my dear, I'm afraid not."

"Are you all right? You've been really out of it today."

"I'm fine, thank you. What was it that you were saying?"

"I was saying, my father and my step-mother invited you over for dinner tonight - and seeing as it's practically night already, basically right now. Do you want to come?" Elizabeta asked, already tugging him towards her house, which was thankfully close by.

"That would be lovely," Roderich gave a genuine smile. He liked Elizabeta's father and his wife almost as much as he liked his own parents (at least, before they forced him to marry his best friend), and allowed himself to be pulled towards their house.

However, outside the front door, Elizabeta drew to a sudden halt, almost sending Roderich crashing into her. "Roddy... You haven't met my step-brother yet, have you?"

"No - you never told me you have a step-brother."

"I'm telling you now," she turned to face him, her face unusually serious. "He used to live with his father and younger brother, but they moved to Italy because of his father's job - anyway, Gilbert decided to move in here. Seeing as he's 20 now, I can't see why he won't find his own place..." She trailed off, casting a glance at the window.

"Why do you look so concerned? Surely he can't be that bad..." Roderich was growing slightly concerned himself now, wondering why Elizabeta had never told him about this "Gilbert".

"No, he's... Oh, you'll find out," Elizabeta said abruptly, opening the front door and leading Roderich inside.

"Dad? Elze? We're home!" She called out, and almost immediately, a tall man with familiar green eyes appeared, wrapping his daughter into an embrace.

"Darling! Roderich," he nodded over his daughter's head with a friendly smile.

"Hello, Mr Hedervary," Roderich nodded back politely, instantly taking his shoes off as he often did in other people's homes.

Apor Hedervary rolled his eyes at the formality, releasing Elizabeta and gesturing for them to enter the dining room.

"Sit down, sit down! I'll just go and help Elze with the food, I'll be out in a moment." Apor said, before hurrying away into the kitchen.

Roderich and Elizabeta sat down next to each other on the six-seater dining table, Elizabeta flicking her long hair out of her face whilst Roderich stared almost unconsciously at the dining table, absentmindedly counting the scratches on it.

Elizabeta laughed. "You know, that's kind of rude," she smiled, pretending to be offended. "You might as well just say out loud how scratched our table is."

"I'm sorry, I-" Roderich was cut off by laughter from the doorway.

He turned round, only to see one of the most stunningly attractive men he had ever met. His unruly hair was the colour of platinum, and his eyes were - somehow - crimson. _Not now, Roderich. Not when you're sat at your fiancée's family's dinner table, for god's sake._ He admonished himself, although he was unable to tear his gaze away from the stranger.

"This is who you're marrying, Lizzie?" The man laughed. Roderich was silently impressed that the man had the gall to call Elizabeta "Lizzie". "This little aristocrat?"

"Shut up, Gilbert," Elizabeta rolled her eyes. "And don't call me Lizzie."

Gilbert shrugged, making his way to the table and sitting across from Roderich - _was that a wink?_ The shameful part of Roderich wished that Gilbert would do it again, despite his earlier comment when he called Roderich an "aristocrat". Then again, he could forgive Gilbert for saying that. He knew perfectly well what sort of impression his clothes gave off. After all, how many 18 year olds wore cravats on a regular basis?

Roderich turned slightly pink, but was saved from having to respond by the entrance of Apor and Elze, who set the dishes down and sat at opposite ends of the table, Apor carrying a bottle of champagne. He poured a little in everyone's glass, and then raised his in the air.

"To Elizabeta and Roderich," he toasted. "May they have a happy, long-lasting marriage."

That did it. Roderich felt sick to his stomach. How could he admire a near-stranger when he was supposed to be engaged to Elizabeta - and even if he didn't love her the way he should, it was still unacceptable. He glanced down at the food - the Hedervarys had made his favourite - but he couldn't eat properly, instead opting to push it around and chew enough tiny mouthfuls so that he didn't look at terribly rude as he felt.

"So, Lizzie," Gilbert started. "This little master's a bit out of your league, don't you think?" He turned to Roderich, blatantly ignoring Elizabeta's glare. "You'd be much better off with the awesome me!"

"Gilbert, stop calling yourself "awesome". You're not awesome," Elizabeta interjected.

"Yes I am! You're just jealous because you're not as awesome as me." Gilbert protested, winking at Roderich again.

Elizabeta muttered something along the lines of Gilbert being a childish dickhead, and returned to her food.

Unfortunately, Gilbert wasn't finished. "Hey, so you're called Roddy, right?"

"I prefer to be called Roderich," Roderich replied in that stiff tone he used automatically with loud strangers.

"No, Roddy's better. And you're Austrian, right?"

"Yes - and you're German?"

"No! Mum and Dad and Ludwig are German - I'm Prussian." Gilbert grinned enthusiastically.

"...You do realise that Prussia doesn't exist anymore, don't you?"

"It exists in here," Gilbert insisted, pointing to his heart. "I'm awesome, and Prussian. Not German."

Roderich just nodded, deciding not to waste his breath disagreeing with the boisterous "Prussian".

"Anyway, how did you end up with Lizzie?" Gilbert continued, curious. "I thought you were just friends."

"Oh yeah, I'm really interested, actually," Elze added. "Why did you propose?"

 _Because my parents forced me to._ "Because... I finally realised my true feelings,"  Roderich forced a smile, looking over at Elizabeta. Hopefully he could leave soon. He wasn't sure how many more lies and fake smiles he could take. Then again, maybe he should get used to it now - soon he'd be dealing with it on a permanent basis. He chose to bury that thought, and turned back to trying to force the food down his throat.

Gilbert made a face that clearly meant "lame", and Elizabeta looked as if she was trying to hide the exact same expression. Apor and Elze, however, were fixated on his every word.

"Well, darling, I'm glad that you finally popped the question," Elze smiled. "Elizabeta's been in love with you for years."

Roderich tried to look happy, and not as if he was about to throw up from panic and general self-disgust. "I felt the same way," he lied through his teeth. "I was simply too afraid to ask." It wasn't that he didn't love Elizabeta, but the love that he had was purely platonic, whereas hers apparently wasn't. The Hedervarys didn't even seem to mind that 18 was pretty young to get married - they just wanted to see Elizabeta happy, and that made everything worse.

"Ja, she even tried talking to me about it. "There's this really pretty Austrian guy called Roddy"," Gilbert mimicked Elizabeta, grinning when she scowled at him. "And even I have to admit, she was right," he continued, his eyes appraising Roderich in a way that made him blush again.

"Stop flirting with Elizabeta's fiancé!" Elze exclaimed, lightly hitting her son upside his head.

"Oh, I don't mind," Elizabeta shrugged, nonchalantly enough, but something sinister that Roderich had grown to fear over the years gleamed in her eyes.

"Of course you don't," Gilbert muttered, shrugging when Apor sent him a questioning glance. He finished eating, and stood up, without waiting to be excused. ( _Then again,_ thought Roderich, _maybe it's only my family that still bothers doing that_.) "See you around, pretty Austrian."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> I hope it was all right...


	3. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back already, because whilst I wasn't entirely happy with the last chapter, I'm quite pleased with this one. Maybe because I wrote it in the evening rather than in the early hours of the morning like I did last night - I really need to stop doing that.

Roderich stared aimlessly at the twenty different types of wedding invitations strewn across his desk. Elizabeta had given him the task of choosing which invitation to use, but honestly, he simply could not concentrate. His mind kept wandering back to his piano, or, occasionally, the "Prussian" he'd met the night before.

The memory of those crimson eyes and his teasing tone made Roderich want to slam his head on the desk before him. Just the fact that he was attracted to the man felt wrong, as if he was adding insult to injury for poor Elizabeta.

"Hello, son!" His father chirped, hurrying up the stairs to Roderich's bedroom. "How's it going, hm?"

Roderich tensed up when his father rested his hands on his shoulders, but Stefan jovially chose to ignore this.

"The blue and silver ones are the best, but what's your colour theme going to be?" Stefan asked, scanning the invitations with his eyes.

"Purple, white and gold," Roderich replied monotonously.

"Lovely! Have the white and purple ones then!" His father chuckled, clapping him on the back. "See, isn't this nice! I bet that whole "gay" fiasco seems really silly now, doesn't it?" Stefan's voice was bright and cheery, but incredibly fake - as was his toothy smile.

"Yes, father," Roderich replied, again cursing himself for being so incredibly weak.

Stefan clapped him on the back again. "That's my boy!" He grinned, before leaving the room.

All was still for a moment. Roderich stared at the invitations - and then swept his hand across the desk in anger, knocking them all to the floor, enjoying the satisfying sound of the heavy card raining to the floor like thin, flat pebbles.

He stood upright, before grabbing his wallet from his bedside table and marching out of the house, viciously slamming the door behind him. His feet led the way, almost unconsciously, taking the familiar route that Roderich so often travelled. Even though the Edelsteins had only recently moved in to the huge manor they called a house, they had been living in this part of London for some time now, and so Roderich knew every single corner of his surroundings.

For most people, special places are down by the river, or a quiet, calm park. Roderich's was a tiny, worn-down music shop on the corner of one of London's many main roads. Next to the bright, eye-catching shops selling clothes or art supplies, it was practically invisible with its peeling brown paint and dusty windows, but Roderich didn't mind. In fact, he liked the quiet atmosphere and the escape it gave from the busyness of London, and the fact that there was rarely more than one customer at a time.

Today, however, was different. As soon as he opened the door, Roderich knew that coming here had been a mistake. Loud guitar music blasted throughout the entire shop, and even Roderich, who knew little about guitars, could tell that it was quite clearly out of tune.

He considered turning around and leaving, perhaps to go to the local concert hall (his second favourite place), but the quiet, bespectacled Canadian shopkeeper had already spotted him. He glanced up from his book to wave at Roderich, who politely waved back and then headed to the piano music section.

Unfortunately for Roderich, the piano section was right near the guitar section, the two separated only by a wall displaying various types of woodwind instruments.

 _Chopin... Mozart... ACDC... What?_ Roderich straightened up, abandoning his perusal of the shelf in favour of asking the idiots who were butchering _Back In Black_ on the guitars to quieten down.

At least, that was the plan. A loud, familiar voice sounded from the other side of the wall, making Roderich scurry back to the piano book shelves.

"How many times, Francis? Not that chord!" Gilbert exclaimed.

"Well, desole, connard!" A man with a French accent called back. "Why am I doing this, anyway? I thought we agreed that Toni was playing the guitar!"

"He was, but you clearly suck at everything else-"

"You're the one who-"

Nervous laughter interrupted what was quickly turning into a shouting match. "Please calm down - I will play the guitar, maybe Francis can try drums?" A Spanish man suggested.

"We'll see, mon ami. Meanwhile, I'm going to see if I can get that Canadian to come on a date with me - he is _beau,_ no?"

Roderich could almost hear the others rolling their eyes. The man - Francis - strode in to view, making his way with complete confidence towards the man at the desk.

"He's so lucky," the Spaniard said mournfully. "Being unattached, I mean. Not that I'd give up Lovi for anyone, but it's hard when he's stuck in Italy until he finishes high school."

"The fact that he's still in high school should be warning enough," Gilbert commented.

"He's seventeen, Gilbert! There is a three year age gap," the man huffed.

"Whatever. I'm starving - let's go and see if we can find an awesome café."

Roderich, for some inexplicable reason, ducked immediately behind the shelf, pretending to search the lower shelf as he silently listened out for the voices of the others.

Gilbert and the Spanish man had barely moved a foot when Francis bounded back, and Roderich saw that his blue eyes were shining with glee.

"His name is Mathieu Williams, and he speaks French!" Francis was practically jumping for joy. "He's perfect!"

"I hope you didn't terrorise him too much," the Spaniard said, casting a worried glance at the Canadian behind the counter. Nothing had changed, except that he was smiling, and his cheeks were slightly red. "And how did you do that so quickly?"

"Don't be stupid, Antonio - no one can resist the charms of a Frenchman," he smiled smugly. "Anyway, I have a date tonight! Gilbert, it looks like you're the only one left without a boyfriend." Francis teased.

Roderich was shocked by Francis' words. All his life, he'd been afraid of his sexuality - and here were three men acting like it was no big deal at all. Roderich was impressed - and envious.

"What about that Austrian you were talking about all morning?" Antonio suggested.

"Shut up!"

Roderich's face turned an impressive shade of crimson. _Gilbert was talking about me?_

It was at that moment that it hit Roderich how pathetically he was acting like a twelve year old girl at that moment. Not only was he fixated upon the possibility that a boy had been talking about him to his friends, but he was also hiding from said boy behind a shelf.

He cleared his throat, and stood up - which was a mistake, he realised afterwards. How odd it must have looked to them.

This point was proved when Francis and Antonio fell about laughing. Even Gilbert was sniggering.

"Sorry, I didn't realise I was so amusing," Roderich huffed, turning back to his perusal of the shelf.

Antonio and Francis immediately stopped laughing, looking vaguely guilty.

"You were like a magic jack-in-the-box!" Gilbert snorted. "Come on, Specs, it was pretty funny."

"I'm sensing some familiarity here," Francis interjected, looking between the two.

"We met last night," Roderich replied stiffly, glaring at the still-snorting Gilbert.

Antonio snapped his fingers in realisation. "You're the Austrian! Hi! So, where did you meet him?"

"Well, "last night" sounds suggestive to me," Francis chimed in. "Was it in a bar?"

"Was Gil hanging around on street corners again?"

"Mein gott, shut up!" Gilbert exclaimed.

"We met," Roderich continued. "Because I'm engaged to his step-sister."

The shop became silent. Even Mathieu glanced up from his book to see what was happening - although he tried to do it subtly.

"Oh... Tough luck, Gil," Antonio frowned, patting his friend on the back.

Francis, fortunately, was much more skilled at reading the atmosphere. He tugged on Antonio's sleeve. "Let's go, mon ami," he murmured, dragging the Spaniard out of the shop, stopping only to wink at Mathieu and make a "call me" gesture.

"I'm... Sorry, about them," Gilbert spoke in such an unusually quiet voice that Roderich didn't even register it as his at first.

"It's fine," he said, his stiff composure returning. "I think I'm going to leave now." He picked up a book containing some of Beethoven's pieces, and hurried to the counter. Gilbert, however, took this as an invitation to join him.

"I meant alone," Roderich muttered through gritted teeth, but Gilbert, boisterous manner regained, ignored this and threw an arm over his shoulder.

"Sure you did, Specs. Who would turn down the company of the awesome me?"

Mathieu raised his eyebrows, giving Roderich a knowing look as he scanned his piano book. "That's £12, please."

With a nod, Roderich opened his wallet - and nearly kicked himself. The shop was unable to accept card, and he'd forgotten to take cash out. He liked to think that he wasn't easily embarrassed, but one of the most embarrassing things that, in his mind, could possibly happen to him, was not having the money when paying for something at a counter. "Oh dear, I-"

"No, Specs, I'm getting this," Gilbert interrupted, withdrawing his own wallet from his jeans pocket.

"You don't have to-" Roderich began to protest, but was cut off by Gilbert yet again.

"I'm getting it," he insisted, handing some money over to Mathieu.

"Oh, well... Thank you very much, Gilbert," Roderich said politely, accepting the bag Mathieu handed over. "Thank you, Mathieu."

"Don't mention it," the Prussian and the Canadian said simultaneously, albeit in very different tones.

"Now, do you want ice cream?" Gilbert asked as they left the shop. "Because I want ice cream."

"Thank you, Gilbert, but I really ought to be getting home now," Roderich tried unsuccessfully to shrug Gilbert's arm off, glancing at the rapidly darkening sky.

"No, you don't," Gilbert replied nonchalantly. "What are you doing there, anyway? Trying to plan the wedding you don't want?"

Roderich tensed up immediately, his blood running cold. "What do you mean?" He asked, as if he didn't already know.

" _Please,_ " Gilbert sighed dramatically. "Anyone can see that you don't love her - not in that way, at least."

"You're mistaken," Roderich snapped, straightening up and forcefully shoving Gilbert's arm off his shoulders, stalking down the road.

"Come on, Specs. If anything, you just proved that I'm right," Gilbert called, hurrying to catch up with him. When Roderich didn't reply, he sighed again. "All right, I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't say stuff like that."

"No, you shouldn't," Roderich agreed, not even turning round to look at him.

"Just let me ask one question," Gilbert continued, placing a hand on Roderich's shoulder which made him stand still. "Why?"

"Why what?" Roderich was growing irritated. He owed nothing to Gilbert.

"Why did you propose? And don't say "because I love her", because you don't."

Roderich turned to face Gilbert, mentally making the transition from annoyed to furious. However, when he saw Gilbert's face - his wide eyes and apologetic expression, looking so out of place on him - Roderich backed down. "Because I had to, all right? My parents forced me." He admitted, shamefaced.

Gilbert made a frustrated noise. "Why couldn't you have just said no?"

Although he was unsure why, Roderich continued to answer Gilbert's questions. "They threatened me. It wasn't even a particularly frightening threat, actually it was rather ridiculous, but... I suppose that at the time it seemed very serious."

Gilbert sighed again. "You've got to learn to stand up to people, Specs."

"Yes, I have." Roderich replied, his voice as empty as his heart felt. "But it's far too late now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, please, review. I need to know what people think of this!  
> Also yay for the BFT, Franada and Spamano - well, I think they're "yay". I don't know about you.


	4. Celebration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as I know, Belgium doesn't have a canon "human name", so for the purposes of this fic I'm calling her Laura Maes.  
> Enjoy!

Outside, the sky over London had darkened to a lovely purple-blue colour, but Roderich didn't notice this kind of thing anymore. The wedding was a mere two weeks away, and Roderich was trying to forget this by immersing himself in music, his fingers dancing in well-rehearsed patterns across his piano keys, and if he closed his eyes, he could imagine that all of this was simply a nightmare. He'd graduated college, and hadn't bothered going to the prom - luckily for him, Elizabeta didn't really care for such things either.

Roderich had been so detached from the real world, he didn't even notice that someone was stood beside him until he reluctantly opened his eyes, and, with a graceless shriek of shock, fell off of the piano stool.

Elizabeta cracked up laughing, her green eyes sparkling with mirth as she half-collapsed in on herself, clutching her stomach.

Roderich huffed indignantly, brushing himself off. "You could have knocked, like any well-mannered person would have done."

Elizabeta, too, righted herself, still chuckling. "Sorry, Roddy. But really, you should have seen your face!" She held out a hand and pulled him upright, grinning.

It was at this moment that Roderich really noticed his fiancée's appearance. "What on _earth_ are you wearing?" He asked, taking in the extremely high heels, short red skirt and revealing white shirt.

Her grin returned, dazzling and sly. "You like?" She asked, winking playfully. "The engagement party at my place, remember?"

"No, actually, I don't believe you told me."

"Oops. Well, it's been going on for about an hour now. We were all wondering where you'd gotten to - and imagine! You forgot your own engagement party."

Roderich frowned irritably. "I didn't _forget_ -"

He was cut off by his mother entering the room, all smiles in front of Elizabeta. "Hi, Eliza, honey. A party? You'd better get going, Roderich, tardiness is terribly rude."

"Yes, mother..."

 

* * *

 

 

Elizabeta's house was almost entirely dark, lit only by a few lamps reflecting off the eyes of the sheer mass of people, all in outfits similar to Elizabeta's.

"I, um, didn't realise you had so many friends, my dear," Roderich coughed nervously.

Elizabeta hit him lightly on the arm. "What are you trying to imply?"

Fortunately, she sensed his nervousness and dragged him straight through to the kitchen, which was lit brightly. It was also relatively empty, apart from a loud American and an irritable-looking Brit.

"Really, Alfred, don't you think you've had enough of that?" The Brit huffed, taking a bottle of wine away from the American.

"No," the American frowned, but he didn't seem too bothered. "This French stuff tastes like vinegar anyway."

"Don't let Francis hear you saying that," Elizabeta chirped, bouncing over to them. "Alfie, Artie, this is Roddy. My fiancé."

"You have a fiancé?" The American slurred, looking at Elizabeta as if he'd never seen her before.

She laughed lightly, looking at the Brit. "Just how drunk is he?"

"He was trying to out-drink Berwald," the Brit replied by way of explanation. "In fact, I should probably take him home, he'll be fainting any minute now," he continued apologetically. "Thank you for inviting us, Elizabeta," he added, before nodding at Roderich as he slung an arm around the slowly-collapsing American's waist. "It was nice to meet you, Roderich - ow! Watch it, you bloody yank!"

"Neighbours, hey?" Elizabeta smiled over at Roderich as the two left the kitchen. "Now come with me - there's loads of people you have to meet!"

And so, Roderich forced polite smiles and introductions as he was whirled around the house, greeting what seemed to be half of London. He met a cross-dressing Pole and his polite Lithuanian friend, an aggressive Swiss man and his friendlier adopted sister, a loud Turk, a frightening Belarusian, a kind Ukrainian woman, and so many more that near to the end, Roderich's fake smile felt as if it was going to split his face in half. If only he really could be happy that he was going to marry Elizabeta...

They were in-between guests when Roderich simply had to ask the question that had been plaguing him for half of the evening. "Isn't your step-brother here?"

Elizabeta looked around as if she hadn't noticed he was missing. "I think he's doing something in the garage. He's formed a band with his friends, and keeps insisting on performing tonight. He'll turn up eventually - he always does."

"That's... Nice." Roderich replied, ignoring the part of him that was glad he'd get to see Gilbert again.

"Wait till you hear his singing voice," she replied, in a tone that made it impossible to understand what she meant by that. Before Roderich had chance to ask, her eyes widened and she smiled happily at the sight of three people before them. "Hey, I've been looking for you guys!" She exclaimed, tugging Roderich so that they both joined the group.

Said group consisted of a serious-looking Japanese man, a thoughtful-looking Greek, and a cheerful-looking Belgian woman, standing together chatting. They greeted the pair simultaneously, the two men with nods of the head, and the woman with a wave.

"Roderich, I've been meaning to introduce you to these three for ages - here we have Kiku, Heracles and Laura. Laura, Heracles, Kiku - this is my fiancé, Roderich."

"It is nice to meet you," the Japanese man said quietly, ducking his head.

"Kiku and Heracles are boyfriends," Elizabeta said, enunciating the last word, her eyes gleaming.

"Why do you tell that to everyone we meet?" Heracles asked, genuinely confused.

"Don't you worry about that, Heracles," Laura said, smiling at her friend. However, when she turned to look at Roderich, the smile instantly seemed very different - even fake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Roderich," she greeted, but this time there was no doubt about it - the words were fake, and something close to malice lingered behind them.

Elizabeta noticed this, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Oh, don't pay attention to her, Roddy. She's just pissed off because I ate all her cake mix before."

"It was going so well, too," Laura added mournfully.

"Elizabeta, is your neighbour's cat upstairs?" Heracles asked, as if this was something that happened often.

"He is obsessed with cats," Kiku informed Roderich, something close to a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I think he likes them more than he likes me."

"I love cats," Heracles nodded. "But I love you more," he added, bending down and planting a kiss on top of Kiku's head - which made the Japanese man blush furiously.

Roderich was insanely jealous - why did his life have to turn out like this? What had he done to deserve having to marry a woman he didn't love, and never be able to have the kind of relationship that the couple standing right in front of him did? He shook these thoughts away. _Get over it, Roderich. This is how it is,_ he told himself sternly.

Elizabeta had a very odd expression on her face by this point, and was muttering something along the lines of:  _how dare Kiku leave his camera in the study!_ "To answer your question," she told Heracles. "I'm pretty sure Gilbert put her outside, but she's probably still in the garden."

Heracles tugged on Kiku's sleeve. "Kiku, let's go and see the cat."

And with that, they disappeared through the crowd, hurrying out of the living room. Laura took one look at Roderich, and then sighed, looking back at Elizabeta. "I'd better go and make sure they don't try and adopt this one," she said quickly, before waving goodbye and following the couple out of the room.

Elizabeta smiled after her. "Well, that was-"

"Roddy!" A voice slurred, as a human-shaped weight fell upon the Austrian. "I'm sooooo glad you came!"

"Gilbert?!" Roderich stammered, struggling to both stand upright and support Gilbert's weight.

Elizabeta rolled her eyes. "Here he is. Aren't you supposed to be performing, Gilbert?"

"No, because Francis keeps making out with that Canadian of his," Gilbert continued, crimson eyes unfocused. "And Toni says I'm too drunk, which is totally not awesome, and..." He trailed off, looking as if he'd forgotten the rest  of his sentence. "I mean, I'm not even drunk. Roddy, do I look drunk to you?"

"Yes." Roderich replied flatly. "Now, won't you please go and faint on something else?"

"But you're so... Soft..." Gilbert murmured, his head resting on Roderich's shoulder.

Roderich looked over at Elizabeta, begging her with his eyes to intervene, but she just smiled and turned away to talk to one of her guests.

Roderich stood there debating what to do next, when the answer was made clear by a noise which came from Gilbert.

"Don't you dare fall asleep on me," Roderich threatened. "All right... Where's your bedroom?" He asked, instantly regretting his choice of words.

"That's very forward," Gilbert commented from where he was practically falling asleep against Roderich's shoulder. "Never would have expected that from an aristocrat like you, Specs. Aren't you supposed to be all dignified?"

"I can't deal with this," Roderich complained. "Just tell me where it is."

"No."

"Please?"

"Can't we just do it in your bed, Specs? It's probably better than mine."

"What?!" Roderich gasped, turning red. "No! Look, if you don't tell me, I'll just ask Elizabeta, or figure it out myself."

Gilbert hung his head, mumbling.

"Pardon? I didn't hear that?"

"I said it's the one with the dinosaur bed covers," Gilbert repeated, refusing to look up.

"Dinosaur..?"

"I'm not embarrassed," Gilbert huffed defiantly. "I bet it's a million times more awesome than - Shit!"

"What is it?"

"I forgot to let Gilbird out of his cage today!"

Roderich didn't even have to drag Gilbert around now - it was if this fact had jolted him awake. Instead, Roderich ended up chasing up the stairs after him, wondering what could have gotten Gilbert in such a fluster.

However, when they entered the room, the first thing they both noticed, despite the posters covering the black and white walls, and the masses of furniture, was an empty bird cage, swaying in the breeze coming from the open window.

"Oh my - has it escaped?" Roderich asked, eyes wide. Gilbert, however, looked relieved.

"No, I must have let him out this morning."

"This morning?! What if he never comes back?!"

Gilbert shrugged, his eyes still unfocused, still very drunk. "He always comes back."

"Well, that's-" Whatever Roderich had been about to say was cut off by Gilbert, who chose that moment to slam his bedroom door shut, pushing a surprised Roderich up against it.

Roderich turned bright red. "G-Gilbert-" He stammered, making no attempts to resist the Prussian - although he knew that he should. Not that Gilbert would do anything Roderich wasn't comfortable with, but he still shouldn't be letting his soon-to-be step-brother-in-law do things like this to him.

"You're really, really beautiful, Specs," Gilbert murmured, pressing his face into Roderich's neck and mumbling against his skin.

"...Thank you?" Roderich replied, silently freaking out, piecing the puzzle together in his brain. _Why am I not resisting? **You know why.** No. I don't like him. I can't. **But you do.** But he's her step-brother! Everything about this is just wrong. **Not everything.** How did I not notice? How could I mistake these feelings for irritation?_ Roderich mentally questioned himself in a frenzy, trying not to show his inner-crisis.

"I just... I'm so jealous of Lizzy, you know? It's going to suck, having a brother-in-law that I..." He trailed off, and Roderich felt Gilbert's eyelashes brush against his skin as his eyes closed.

Roderich didn't reply. He didn't know what to say.

"But..." Gilbert paused, one of his hands falling from the door to rest against Roderich's chest. "We still have tonight, you know."

Roderich's eyes widened as he understood what Gilbert meant. "No. Gilbert, I can't. Not when..." _Not when I'm engaged to your step-sister._ "Not when you're drunk."

Gilbert looked up, face flushed and eyes curious. "Are you saying that you would if I wasn't, Specs?" He asked, a hint of his usual, cheeky grin reappearing.

Roderich sighed, looking away and forcing himself to gently push Gilbert off him. "I... Not now, Gilbert. Just... Go to bed, okay?" He asked, slightly shaken.

Gilbert frowned, but did as Roderich asked with a sigh, falling on to the bed without even bothering to take off his shoes. Roderich took a moment to regain his breath, and then took Gilbert's shoes off for him, rolling his eyes as he pulled the duvet over the Prussian.

"Go to sleep, Gilbert," Roderich instructed, hurrying into the en-suite bathroom to find a glass of water and some pills for the killer hangover that Gilbert would surely have in the morning. He placed them on Gilbert's bedside table, before switching off the light and turning to leave.

"Wait, Roderich..." Gilbert rasped, and Roderich was shocked to hear Gilbert use his actual name. "Please can you... Stay? Until I fall asleep."

Roderich was surprised - he never thought that Gilbert would ever make requests like this, and he supposed that under most circumstances, he wouldn't.

Roderich nodded, and made to sit on the chair next to Gilbert's desk.

"No, here," Gilbert insisted, patting the end of his bed.

Roderich paused for a moment, wondering if he should refuse. Then again, he realised, Gilbert was almost unconscious anyway. So he went over and sat on the grey, dinosaur-patterned bedcovers, down by Gilbert's waist, waiting for Gilbert to fall asleep.

In truth, he stayed there much longer after Gilbert had fallen asleep, and on a whim, even reached out to gently stroke the Prussian's hair - not that he'd admit that.

And when the clock struck twelve, he stood up and walked back downstairs, where the party was still going on strong, past where Heracles and Kiku were playing on Elizabeta's XBOX, past where the Swiss man was playing darts against the Belarusian woman, and almost past where Elizabeta and Laura were deep in conversation - but he remembered his manners at the last second and stopped to say goodbye to Elizabeta, letting her kiss him hard on the mouth, and not realising that that had been their first real kiss as he ran home through the night, to the safety and escapism of his piano.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* Embrace the Giripan...  
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we start, I just want to say thank you so much for your comments, bookmarks, kudos' or even just reading this. It really means a lot that people are enjoying the stuff I write!  
> I hope you enjoy the new chapter :)

The next day brought overwhelming sunlight, shining upon Roderich's face through the drawn curtains as if it was trying to blind him.

Although Roderich had never been a morning person, he had always tried to be - at the very least - vertical by 10am. However, today was different. The realisations from the party had kept him awake for half of the night, and the dreams that had come when he finally did fall asleep did not make it any easier to finally get out of bed.

Because of this, when he finally did drag himself out of bed, it was past noon, and his brain was still addled from lack of sleep. Roderich forced his unwilling feet to carry him down the stairs, where he proceeded to practically attach himself to the coffee machine as if it was his life support.

"Roderich!" His mother admonished when she saw the state of him, his too-pale skin and bleary eyes. "Oh, I should never have let you go to that party! Look at you," she fussed, running her fingers through his unwashed hair. Roderich was too tired to even bother trying to stop her.

"Now, now, Nadine, boys will be boys," Stefan smiled, entering the kitchen. As he poured his coffee into his favourite mug, Roderich wondered how he had ever mistaken that smile for comforting.

"Perhaps, but really, Roderich! We have an appointment today, so you'd better go and freshen up."

"What appointment?" Roderich mumbled over his coffee, still blinking sleep out of his eyes.

"We're going to see a healer," Stefan replied in a matter-of-fact tone, going to put an arm around his wife's shoulders.

"A healer? Why?" Roderich asked, beginning to wake up. "No one is ill... Are they?"

"No, this isn't your usual kind of healer," Stefan said, smiling again. "It's for you, Roderich."

"Why? There's nothing wrong with me."

Nadine Edelstein flinched. "Well... There probably isn't, anymore at least. We're just being cautious."

Roderich's eyes widened as it began to dawn on him, and he wondered how he hadn't guessed it straight away. The looks in his parent's eyes should have been enough to tell him. The coffee turned sour in his mouth, and he forced himself to swallow it, no longer feeling tired. "No." He shook his head, placing his mug down on the counter.

Nadine's eyes narrowed. "Now come on, Roderich-"

"No! I refuse. You cannot do this!"

"Don't be like that, son," Stefan tried to lay a hand on his son's shoulder, but Roderich ducked away. "Just to make sure it's gone for good."

"This is for your own sake, darling," Nadine added. "We just any of... Of _that_ left in you."

 _Do something, Roderich,_ he told himself, squeezing his eyes shut. _Say no. Say it!_

It was no good. And half an hour later, as they all climbed into the car, Roderich cursed himself yet again for being to weak to stand up to his parents.

 

* * *

 

 

"The Healer" turned out to be an old man dressed all in white, living inside a small yet well-decorated flat, with expensive furniture and several pet rats. If there was one species that Roderich simply could not stand, it was rats. The way their small, beady black eyes stared, and then there was the smell...

He drew his gaze away from the creatures, opting instead to look around at the rest of the flat. There were several flyers advertising "Healer Blanc" laying across almost every visible surface, and almost every single thing was white. It reminded Roderich of a well-decorated hospital.

"Hello, I am Healer Blanc," the man introduced himself, sitting on one of the many white armchairs and gesturing that they should all do the same. "You must be the Edelsteins."

"We are," Stefan nodded, his expression unusually serious.

"Good. And why are you here today?"

"It's our son," Nadine gestured to Roderich, sounding for all the world as if her son was laying on his deathbed. "I'll get straight to the point. He, um..."

"He thought he was homosexual," Stefan interjected when his wife couldn't say the words.

Healer Blanc sucked in a breath, his eyes as black and beady as the rat's. "Ah."

Roderich sat stubbornly in a chair, refusing to meet anyone's gaze and instead choosing to stare at the floor, wondering if there was a single speck of dirt to be found on the white carpet.

"It's been mostly sorted out now," Nadine continued, casting a glance at her husband. "Roderich has gotten engaged to a lovely girl, and he's going to be married very soon. But we just wanted to make sure that it was really gone."

Healer Blanc nodded. "Understandable. In this day and age, we're seeing more and more of this, it's extremely unfortunate, really. However, you've done well in targeting it this early on, so I should be able to help you. However, to ensure success, I'm going to have to ask you to leave for fifteen minutes."

At this, Roderich's head shot up. As much as he'd love to spend less time with his parents, he'd rather not be left alone with this man. He sent his father an imploring look, hoping that, even after everything, he might help him. Stefan's expression began to waver slightly, but Nadine had already stood up.

"Of course," she said briskly, heading towards the door. "Come on, Stefan."

"Mother, father-" Roderich began to speak, making to stand up, but Stefan stood, and placed his hands on his son's shoulders, forcing him back down in his seat.

"This is for your own good, Roderich," he said. And then they were gone.

Roderich's mouth fell in to an o shape, his eyes wide with panic. What would this man do to him? Surely he couldn't seriously harm him - he wouldn't do anything illegal, would he?

 _Get a hold of yourself!_ He told himself sternly, forcing himself to stay put. _Of course he won't. Maybe this is for the best anyway..._

Suddenly, there was a cold, papery hand on his jaw, turning his head upwards to stare into the eyes of Healer Blanc. "Now, Roderich," the Healer spoke, his voice as cold as his hand. "What made you think that you were homosexual?"

For a moment, Roderich considered not answering, or getting up and walking away. _No. I'm not going to spend the rest of my life attracted to my brother-in-law-to-be. I will endure this._ Determinedly, and thinking of Elizabeta, he stared back into the man's eyes. "I... I felt about men the way I should have felt about women."

The Healer nodded thoughtfully. "And what about now? Do you still have wrongful thoughts about men?"

Roderich's mouth went dry as he thought of Gilbert, and how he really felt about him. _Yes._

Healer Blanc noticed Roderich's hesitation, and frowned. "You have to be honest, Roderich. I can't help you if you're going to lie to me."

Roderich wanted to shout: "I don't want you to help me!" This, however, was not the truth. If he had to marry Elizabeta, he wanted to love her properly. So instead, he told the truth. "Y-yes. But only one."

Healer Blanc shook his head, as if he was disappointed. "That is unfortunate, especially when you are engaged. Now, what about the woman you are going to marry? Do you love her?"

"No. I don't."

Healer Blanc sighed sadly. "This is really unfortunate, Roderich. Anyway, never mind. Do you want to change? That is the important part."

"Yes, I do."

Healer Blanc nodded with approval. "Good! Now, perhaps some solutions? Have you ever been..." He coughed into his fist. "...Intimate with this woman?"

Roderich turned white. In all the fuss about the wedding, he'd almost forgotten about that. Of course, he'd have to eventually... "No."

"Have you ever been with any woman?"

"No..."

"What about with a man?"

Thoughts of Gilbert and what easily could've happened the night of the party rushed into his mind, and he turned pink despite himself. The Healer frowned, taking this as confirmation.

"I haven't," Roderich interjected, before Healer Blanc could speak.

The Healer looked relieved. "Well, good." He cleared his throat, taking some flyers off the coffee table next to his armchair and handing one to Roderich. "You may keep this, but first, I need to cleanse you."

 

* * *

 

 

"Your son has been cleansed!" Healer Blanc exclaimed cheerfully when Nadine and Stefan returned. "Now, tell your parents what you have learnt, Roderich."

"Homosexuality is an abomination," Roderich said, his voice a monotone and his eyes empty. "All of them will be punished in the afterlife."

Stefan nodded, pleased. "That's my boy!"

"Yes," Nadine agreed, not noticing or caring that her son was devoid of all emotion. "Thank you, Healer Blanc," she said, digging out her wallet and paying him.

Stefan clapped his son on the back, opening the front door. "Now come on, who fancies ice cream?"

 

* * *

 

 

The Edelsteins waited in the line at the  _Maes Ice Cream Parlour,_ Stefan and Nadine chatting happily about the upcoming wedding, grateful for Healer Blanc's works. Meanwhile, Roderich stared around, looking at each and every female around his age, almost begging himself to find them attractive. There was a beautiful, dark-skinned girl with long dark hair tied up in bunches, talking enthusiastically to a pretty girl who looked like a pale-blonde version of Elizabeta. A gang of girls were crowded around a table, all laughing loudly and eating their ice creams. Still, Roderich felt no hint of attraction to any of them. He was practically in despair over this when a familiar voice interrupted his observations, and he turned to realise that the speaker was Laura.

She started when she saw his face, and then that fake smile was back. "Roderich! What a surprise," she greeted.

"Indeed," he replied, realising that the Edelsteins were at the front of the line. "I didn't know that you worked here."

"It's my parent's place," she replied indifferently, before turning to Nadine and Stefan. "Hello, what can I get for you?"

"I'll have mint chocolate and bubblegum, please," Stefan said, choosing that odd combination that he always had.

"Vanilla for me, please." Nadine requested. "How do you know our son?"

"I'm Elizabeta's friend," Laura said brightly, her smile genuine. "We met at the party last night."

"Well, it's great to see that Roderich is making new friends," Stefan declared as Laura handed him his ice cream.

"Mhm," Laura agreed, but judging by her expression, "friends" wasn't the word that she would have used. "Roderich, would you like anything?"

"No thank you," he refused, as Nadine pulled out her wallet to pay for her and Stefan's ice creams.

The family went to sit down, and as Stefan and Nadine again began chattering about the dreaded wedding, Roderich stared aimlessly ahead. Healer Blanc hadn't actually _healed_ anything, so to speak. He'd just put an ugly plaster over it, lecturing Roderich about how homosexuality was wrong until Roderich was completely and utterly drained. However, now he knew what he had to do. It was simple, really - throw himself into the wedding, force happiness, and kiss Elizabeta until he loved her. But this plan had a catch - to stay as far away as possible from Gilbert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> I didn't want to bring OC's into a fanfiction, but I hope you can see why I did it. Still, you probably want to punch them as much as I do.


	6. Redial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Okay, there are two things I want to say:  
> 1\. Updates might be slightly less frequent than they have been because my laptop (hopefully only temporarily) broke, so I have to use the family computer. However, when I say slightly, I mean slightly - I should still be updating every few days.  
> 2\. I've been looking over my plan, and the fic's probably going to be twelve chapters long, but I'm not setting it yet because I'm not sure.  
> Enjoy! Don't worry, this chapter's happier than the last one, I promise.

The wedding was officially a week away, and Roderich was busy immersing himself in last-minute wedding plans, deciding that there was no use in denying it any longer. Since his visit to the "Healer", he hadn't spoken to Gilbert at all. In fact, he'd barely spoken to anyone, apart from when he had gone ring-shopping with Elizabeta, and even then he'd only talked when absolutely necessary, letting his fiancee ramble on, with only the occasional nod from him.

Today was the day that he and Elizabeta were supposed to be moving most of their possessions to their new apartment. How he was supposed to do this alone and without a removal van was unbeknownst to Roderich. His parents claimed that they had hired some help, and then had gone out for the day, so he was left hauling suitcases full of his things down the stairs, and depositing them at the front door in the hope of a helpful removal van showing up.

He was trying in vain to drag his piano out of the music room (he didn't even want to think about how he was going to get it downstairs) when a voice behind him startled him.

"Hey, Specs."

Roderich froze, before turning to glare at Gilbert, who was leaning against a wall with a smug grin on his face. "And what do you want?"

Gilbert grinned. "I never told you what I do for a living, did I?" He carefully walked past the piano, before grasping it and turning it on its side. "I'm a removal man - well, for the moment - an awesome one too, I might add. We'll get this done in no time!"

Roderich cursed silently.  _This is just my luck. I have to move furniture with the man I'm supposed to be avoiding._ That, however, was not the main problem at that moment. "What did you do to my piano?!" He cried.

Gilbert looked slightly alarmed. "Relax, Specs, it's just to make it move easier."

"But won't that damage it?" He panicked. "If you break my piano, Gilbert..."

"Specs, calm down!" Gilbert laughed, before ushering Roderich aside and easily pushing the piano out of the room. "Now come on, you have to help me lift this down the stairs. I might be strong but I'm not _that_ strong. This is a big piano."

Roderich didn't want to admit it, but the whole removal process really was easier with Gilbert's help. Actually, Gilbert did most of the work whilst Roderich made himself a cup of tea and sat in the kitchen sipping it. Meanwhile, the Prussian heaved most of Roderich's possessions into the van. Not that Roderich would admit this, either.

Like this, it was far easier to avoid talking to Gilbert. He pointedly avoided looking at him, instead choosing to read one of his father's car magazines. It made no sense to him, but at least it was a distraction.

In fact, he was so focused on paying no attention to Gilbert that the man had to call to Roderich three times before the Austrian noticed.

"What is it?" He huffed, trying to look irritated and absolutely refusing to notice how Gilbert's sweat-soaked shirt clung to his torso.

"Aren't you coming?" Gilbert asked, looking so carefree that Roderich decided that he probably had no memory of the party. In any case, he wasn't about to remind him.

Roderich nodded, following Gilbert into the van and fastening his seatbelt. They drove half of the way in silence, until Gilbert apparently couldn't take it any more and slotted a CD into the CD player of the old van, and letting Led Zeppelin blare through the speakers.

"Too loud for you?" He called over  _Dazed and Confused._

Roderich considered replying "yes" just to be difficult, because in reality he enjoyed loud music, as long as it was good. And to be fair, Gilbert did have a decent taste in music, although Roderich personally thought that Led Zeppelin could never match up to Mozart. "No..."

"Good," Gilbert replied, and before Roderich could realize what was about to happen, Gilbert was singing.

" _Try to love you baby, but you push me away, don't know where you're goin', only just know where you've been,_ " he sang loudly, staring at Roderich, his act complete with dramatic hand motions.

"Gilbert! Watch the road, please! And put your hands back on the wheel!" Roderich lectured, panicking when they almost swerved into a parked truck.

"I am!" Gilbert replied, humming through the music. By the time the song reached the last few words, they were pulling into the apartment block's car park.

" _Been dazed and confused for so long, it's not true, wanted a woman, never bargained for you, take it easy baby, let them say what they will, will your-_ " Gilbert sang loudly, before the engine cut off, and the music with it. He sighed in disappointment. "Okay, let's go. Which floor are you on again?"

"Oh dear..." Roderich murmured, looking at the sheer height of the place. "Is now a good time to tell you..?"

Gilbert groaned, closing his eyes and looking as if he was trying to sink into the seat. "Don't tell me it's the top floor..."

 

* * *

 

 

When the two men finally finished with all the furniture - and that included having to shift both Elizabeta's things and the new stuff around - the sky was turning indigo. They collapsed onto the black leather sofa, gasping for breath. Roderich had well and truly given up on his "not talking to Gilbert" plan, as it clearly wasn't working. Besides, what was the point? They'd practically be family in a few days.

"Hey, Specs, you know that coffee machine..?"

"In a minute," Roderich replied. "I'm not moving for another... Ten years..."

Gilbert began to laugh - and was interrupted by a noise from his laptop, which he had seen fit to bring with him. It was currently resting on the coffee table, open on Skype.

"Oh, my brother's Skyping me," Gilbert stated, grinning and accepting the call, pulling the laptop onto his knee. Roderich leaned away from the camera, but Gilbert just rolled his eyes and pulled him back in. "You have to say hi to Ludwig," he added, when a face of a blond teenager sitting on a sofa in a green-painted living room appeared on the screen.

"Bruder!" Gilbert exclaimed, eyes lighting up before they narrowed in accusation. "How's Dad, and Italy? You haven't Skyped me in ages. That is totally not awesome!" He proclaimed.

"Sorry, Gil," the boy replied. "I've been..." He glanced around the room he was in. "Busy. Italy's really nice. And Dad's fine, but he's still at work."

"Hm? Good. Have you met any hot Italians yet?" Gilbert asked, winking.

The boy's eyes widened, and he turned pink. "N-no!"

Suddenly, another face popped up - a shorter boy with auburn hair sat next to Ludwig on the sofa, frowning. "So I'm not hot?"

"That's not-"

"Oh, is this your brother?" He peered at the screen. "Hi Ludwig's brother! Wait, which one's your brother? Is it the grey-haired one, because he looks scary, like you."

Gilbert made a face. "My hair is platinum!"

Ludwig sighed. "Yes, that's my brother, Gilbert. Gilbert, this is Feliciano."

"I'm his boyfriend!" Feliciano interjected. "Hi, Gilbert! And hi to you, whoever you are," He greeted, gesturing to Roderich.

Roderich began to reply, but was interrupted by Gilbert.

"This is my boyfriend, Roddy" Gilbert grinned, throwing an arm around Roderich's shoulders, winking at him.

"Excuse me?" Roderich began, giving Gilbert a sharp stare. Gilbert, however, just winked again.  _Maybe I don't really mind,_ Roderich thought.

Ludwig raised his eyebrows. "I didn't know that you..."

Gilbert laughed. "Looks like you're not the "gay brother" anymore." He looked at Feliciano, who was smiling widely. "Hey, you look familiar... Are you sure your name isn't Lavino or something?"

Feliciano giggled. "It's Lovino. And no, he's my brother. I can go and get him if you want, but he might shout at you because I think he's asleep and he doesn't like it when people wake him up. How do you know him, anyway?"

Gilbert snapped his fingers. "Lovino, that's it. Don't bother. I just know him because my friend..." He grimaced, leaving the rest of the sentence unsaid.

Feliciano didn't seem to notice, because at that moment, a timer went off, and he ran from the room yelling about pasta.

Ludwig stood up too. "I'd better go and help him. Goodbye, I'll get in touch soon!"

"Bye," Gilbert and Roderich chorused, before the call disconnected.

Gilbert closed the lid of his laptop, and Roderich left to go and make coffee. As he grabbed the mugs from the cupboard, he couldn't help but think about how cruel this situation was. He had spent the day moving furniture with Gilbert, and then they'd Skyped with the Prussian's family. It was almost as if it really was Gilbert and Roderich who were together, as if the whole thing wasn't some cruel set up and as soon as they left the apartment, they'd go back to being almost-brothers-in-law. How cruel it was, that the very apartment which was soon to be a cage to Roderich had been where he'd spent a day living the life he could only dream of. So he took his time making the coffee, trying to make this day last longer. He even let himself nap on the sofa, but when he woke up, Gilbert was gone, and the dream was shattered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, GerIta! No spoilers but I plan on having them in it again.  
> Just to clarify, Ludwig and Feliciano are both fifteen in this fic.  
> Thanks for reading, please review.


	7. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjooooooour.  
> Do I update too frequently? Sometimes I feel like I do, but then again, if I leave it too long I might lose inspiration and I really don't want that to happen - and it will if I leave long periods between new chapters. Anyway, enough of that. I hope you like this one!

Five days. Five days was all Roderich had left to get himself together, and tonight certainly wasn't going to help. Tonight was the day he had been dreading almost as much as the big day itself - tonight was the wedding rehearsal.

He never saw the point in them, but his parents had insisted, and tonight they were going all-out - most of the guests would be there, they'd recite their vows almost word-for-word, and they'd even have a plastic version of the cake. Really, it was bordering on ridiculous. But in Roderich's mind, not one of those things was the worst aspect of the night. It wasn't even the fake wedding itself. No, it was the fact that Gilbert would be there.

Of course, the actual day would be far worse, but Roderich was still somewhat in denial about that, hoping that something would come up and save him. He wasn't about to ditch Elizabeta at the altar, because he knew perfectly well what that would do to her. Although he tried to ignore it, the wedding was like an impending doom, and the escape hatches were closing up one by one.

And so he stood there now, in one of the church's side rooms, entirely still whilst his mother fussed with his bow tie.

"I just can't get it even!" She exclaimed in frustration.

"Leave it, mother. It doesn't matter," Roderich replied tonelessly.

"Leave it?!" She almost shrieked, quickly getting worked up. "I can't just leave it! Elizabeta's having trouble with her dress as well..." She trailed off in despair. "It's all going wrong!"

Suddenly, the music began to play.

Nadine Edelstein looked like she was about to cry, but Stefan hurried in and ushered her into the hallway, murmuring to her comfortingly.

Roderich took a deep breath, closing his eyes. _Here goes_ _nothing._

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"What the hell was that?!" His mother screeched at him, having dragged him outside as soon as he vows were over.

Roderich frowned in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Don't give us that!" Stefan snarled, joining them. "You barely even looked at Elizabeta!"

 _Ah. Of course. I ruined their elaborate performance._ Roderich realised. "I'm very sorry-"

"Damn right you should be!" Stefan yelled. "What on earth are the guests going to think, hm?"

"I'll tell you what," Nadine growled. "They're going to think that you don't want this."

"That's the thing, mother. I  _don't_ ," Roderich said before he could stop himself.

The slap resounded loudly into the night. Roderich stared at his mother in shock, the left side of his face quickly turning bright red. It hadn't been a particularly hard hit, but Roderich had been completely unprepared. His mother had never,  _ever,_  even shown signs of being capable of doing something like that. No, she'd always been the gentle one, despite her strictness. He remembered that awful night when he'd first admitted his secret to his parents - his mother had been the one to defend him when his father showed signs of wanting to hurt him. He'd never expected that she...

"The Healing did work, honey. He's just messing around," Stefan said, holding Nadine and repeating his new mantra over and over. He glared at Roderich. "Sit out here and think about what you've done," he hissed, as if the clock had been reversed by a decade and Roderich had broken one of his parent's wine glasses.

Stefan and Nadine hurried back inside, leaving Roderich sitting outside on a large rock, surrounded by the cold darkness, unconsciously pressing a hand to his sore cheek.

Footsteps broke the silence, and a figure sat next to him on the rock. He didn't even need to look up to see who it was.

"Hello, Tino," Roderich greeted, his voice weary.

The short Finn reached over and wrapped his arms around his friend, ignoring the creases appearing on his Best-Man suit. He didn't pull away, not even when Roderich started to sob quietly, first into his hands, but then into the shoulder of his friend's suit jacket, soaking it. "Shh," he whispered quietly, gently patting the Austrian on the back.

Eventually, Roderich sniffed, straightening up and wondering what had come over him. He rarely ever cried - he considered himself far too dignified, and he hadn't cried in front of another person since he was twelve. He was too proud to show himself like that. "Thank you, Tino," he said said, his voice hoarse from crying.

"It's okay," Tino replied. He remained one of the few people who knew that Roderich was gay, so he didn't need to ask what was wrong. "You can cry. This is all so unfair on you," he continued, his voice melancholy.

Roderich turned to his friend, dabbing at his eyes with his handkerchief and hoping that the cold air was making his face less pink and puffy. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course!"

"What would you do, if you were in my situation?" He asked slowly. It wasn't often that he asked for advice, after all - that was another thing that he was usually too proud to do.

Tino sighed sadly. "I don't know, Roddy. I'm sorry." He hesitated for a moment, before pulling a small vial from his breast pocket. "I do have this, though. I've been meaning to give it to you for a while."

"What is it?" He asked, taking the object from his friend to find that it was filled with a small, glittering deep blue substance. "Magic dust?" He asked incredulously, reading the label and raising an eyebrow.

Tino laughed quietly. "I know, it's silly. But my mama's obsessed with this stuff - she really believes it works. So just... Take it, please," he gave Roderich a lopsided smile.

Roderich smiled at his friend. "Thank you, Tino," he said sincerely, slipping it into his pocket.

"It's nothing," Tino stood up, holding out a hand to help Roderich to his feet. "Let's go back inside, okay?"

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Inside the church, the reception was in full swing. After a pat on the back from Tino, who then disappeared into the crowd, Roderich forced a smile, nodding at all the people he had met at the party, his own few guests, and more people besides. He recognized Laura, deep in conversation with the violent Swiss man, and Kiku and Heracles talking to Alfred and Arthur over in a corner. He made himself walk towards where Elizabeta was arguing with Gilbert.

"Gil, I am _not_ having your friends here."

"Pleaseeee, Lizzie? Toni can be my plus-one, and Francis can be my plus-one plus-one. Then Mathieu can be  _his_ plus-one."

"No, Gil. I'm already letting you invite your dad, your brother and his boyfriend, and  _we're_ the ones who have to pay for the plane tickets. And now Feliciano's trying to get  _his_ brother to come along! How many plus-ones do you need?" She wailed, throwing her arms in the air.

"Lovino's coming? Toni definitely has to come, then, or he'll-" He cut himself off when he spotted Roderich, grinning widely. "Hey, Specs!"

"Roddy!" Elizabeta smiled, running towards him and hugging him. "Where did you go?"

"It doesn't matter," he murmured into her hair, kissing the top of her head, neglecting to even look at Gilbert. "Did I tell you how absolutely beautiful you look, my dear?" He asked her, his smile as fake as the wedding cake.

She smiled endearingly at him, before someone behind him caught her eye. "Can you hang on for a moment?" She asked, peering over his shoulder. "Laura wants to talk to me."

Gilbert opened his mouth to speak, but Roderich cut him off, taking hold of his sleeve. "I need to talk to you. Is there somewhere private we can go?"

The Prussian began to waggle his eyebrows, but stopped when he saw Roderich's expression. He nodded, pulling him into one of the side rooms, the door slamming behind them. "What's up, Specs?"

"Gilbert, I... We have to stop this." Roderich gestured between the two of them, not really knowing what "this" was. Flirting? Gilbert's winking? Nothing really was going on, after all.

Gilbert apparently had the same thoughts. "What "this"?" He asked, "There is no "this"."

"Well-" Roderich was flustered. "You - you want there to be a "this"."

Gilbert's eyes narrowed. "Who says so?"

"You do! The way you're always - flirting, or whatever!" This was getting out of hand very quickly - he hadn't intended to actually  _fight_ with Gilbert. He'd simply planned to let him know that whatever it was they had couldn't continue, but maybe he'd been naive to ever think it would go that smoothly.

"Don't flatter yourself, Specs." Gilbert said contemptuously, raising his chin in the air. "As if I'd ever be interested in a kid like you."

Roderich copied this action. "So you say, but you seem very eager, practically dragging me in here like this. And then there was the night of the party-"

He didn't realize that he'd said too much until Gilbert froze, his eyes widening. "What happened?"

"N... Nothing..."

"Roderich, what happened?" When the Austrian refused to reply, his patience snapped. "You can't do that!" Gilbert yelled. "Just tell me!"

Roderich backed away, his eyes wide at his sudden outburst. "Nothing happened, all right?" He yelled. "Although you apparently wanted it to - just stop throwing yourself at me, it's despicable." He spat out, the words like poison in his own mouth.

Suddenly, Gilbert visibly calmed down, a cold sneer etching itself onto his face. "At least I'm not some push-over aristocrat who does whatever his mummy and daddy say."

Roderich's eyes widened in anger. "How dare you? You don't know a single thing about me!"

"Oh, but I do!" Gilbert said coolly. "I know that you're just some wimp who's afraid of his own shadow. You're not even manly enough to tell your fiancee the truth, let alone yourself."

Roderich knew that Gilbert didn't really mean what he was saying - he was just trying to hurt him, the same way Roderich was. However, his next words came out before he could stop them, and once he saw the look on Gilbert's face, he knew that he'd give anything to take them back. "How about you go and screw your brother's boyfriend, you pathetic, desperate, insecure tramp!"

Gilbert reeled backwards, as if Roderich's words had each been individual, physical slaps. He stared at the Austrian for a long moment.

"Gilbert, I-"

"Save it," he said, his voice empty, before turning and storming out.

Roderich stared after him in shock and horror at what he'd just said, before he slid down the wall, burying his face in his arms and crying for the second time that night. But this time, there was no one there to comfort him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that cruel of me? Because it's going to get worse. Sorry, I'm actually kind of mean to you guys :(  
> I'm not sure if people actually have wedding rehearsals in England - you'd think that I'd know, seeing as I live here, but I don't - it seems like more of an American thing. Maybe I'm just completely misguided. Who knows? Also, AO3 is making me spell words the American way. It's making me irritated XD


	8. Shatter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

_A, F#, D - No!_ Roderich slammed his hands down on the piano in frustration, creating an echo of music throughout the room. He'd been sat here for three hours now, trying to compose a song for Elizabeta, but nothing sounded right.

Recently, he'd been spending much of his time in the dusty music shop - partly for his own sake, and partly to avoid the world, especially his parents. Luckily, the only other person in here was Mathieu, the shopkeeper, who was fine with Roderich staying for a while as long as he didn't break anything.

At the sudden blaring of music, the quiet shopkeeper jumped, looking up from his pancakes. "Sir, please be careful," he reprimanded, despite the fact that Roderich had told him plenty of times that the "sir" wasn't necessary.

Roderich sighed, gathering up his music sheets. "Sorry." He muttered, closing the piano cover.

Mathieu frowned, sitting down next to the pianist. "If you don't mind me asking, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm fine, thank you," Roderich replied, offering a weak smile to the Canadian. He hesitated, wondering if he should try and fill the growing uncomfortable silence, when the shrill trilling of his iPhone sliced through the air.

 

**From: Mother**

**We need to talk. Come home immediately.**

**\- Nadine Edelstein**

 

No "love from" or little "x"'s at the bottom - Roderich's mother didn't go in for that kind of thing. She did, however, usually sign her messages to her son with "mother", and this, along with the content of the message, worried Roderich. She never signed with her full name, not even that time when he'd been dragged to a strip club by Tino's friends, and Mathias had blamed it on him when he put the pictures on Facebook for all the world (including his parents) to see. Roderich didn't need to be a detective to figure out that he was in serious trouble.

He said a quick goodbye to Mathieu, and hurried home immediately, knowing that being late would only make matters worse.

_What could it be? I haven't done anything... They couldn't possibly know about him._

Since the disastrous wedding rehearsal, he'd developed an aversion to thinking of Gilbert, probably because of the painful memories it brought back. Usually, Roderich was the master of controlling his tongue, but his skill had betrayed him, and he'd said things that he never meant to say, things that he didn't even think were true. _What I'd give to take them back._

In Roderich's case, the theory (that he often disagreed with) that telling the truth would always be better than telling a lie had been proven to be correct. Because what he'd said wasn't the truth. What he meant to say was that they could not carry on as they were for several reasons, the main one being his poor fiancée. Maybe if he'd said that, Gilbert would have understood it and accepted it. No - there was no "maybe" about it, Roderich knew that. But in that moment, all he wanted to do was to hurt Gilbert badly enough so that he'd lose all interest in him. He'd thought that hatred would be preferable to romantic affection, but that was another thing he'd been wrong about.

When he got home, he didn't bother to announce his arrival, instead choosing to simply brace himself and get it over with, striding into the main room with a straight back and set shoulders, waiting to meet the grim expressions of his parents.

However, only Stefan was there, holding a bag in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other. His face wasn't grim, or even angry - instead it was resigned, almost expressionless.

"Where's mother?" Roderich asked, resting his music sheets on the coffee table.

"At church," Stefan replied shortly. "Praying."

Roderich started. He didn't even know that his mother was religious. When he voiced this, his father shook his head, as if in shame.

"She wasn't," he replied. "But now that she can see what her son has become, she's decided to turn to the Lord. I will be joining her - when I've sorted a few matters out."

"Father, what's going on?" Roderich asked, slowly becoming panicked, even afraid.

Stefan held the piece of paper out to Roderich. "Explain this."

The paper was a print out of a Facebook post, from Kiku Honda's page. It didn't have a caption, but the description showed two names that had been tagged: Gilbert Beilschmidt, and Roderich Edelstein.

The photo itself wasn't exactly what Roderich would have called incriminating, but he could see why it had upset his parents. It was from the night of the Engagement Party, and showed a drunken Gilbert leaning on Roderich, resting his head on his shoulder. Hardly explicit, but the look in their eyes said it all.

He stared at the photo in shock - he hardly ever used Facebook, in fact, he'd almost forgotten that he had it, so he'd never even considered his parents might see the photos that he'd been tagged in. In truth, he hadn't even realised that there _was_ a photo.

"Amazing thing, the internet," Stefan spoke when Roderich failed to. "Your mother goes on her son's profile to see what he's been up to - after all, he spends most of his time out of the house nowadays - and finds this. Care to explain?"

"This was before the healing," was the first thing that Roderich could think of to say.

"I don't care!" Stefan exploded. "Your mother and I _told_ you that it was wrong, but apparently, you don't care!" He yelled, taking a step towards his son.

Roderich backed away immediately, and his father stopped still, silent and expressionless.

"Get out," he whispered, so quietly that Roderich almost missed it.

"Excuse me?"

"I said get out," Stefan repeated, his teeth gritted. He threw the bag in his hand at his son's feet. "The last of your possessions," he explained.

Roderich's eyes widened with shock. "Father-"

"Don't even try going to your cushy little apartment," Stefan snarled. "Because I'm afraid I took your key."

"Father, please!" He exclaimed. "I can explain-"

"GET OUT!" Stefan roared.

Everything was silent. Roderich trembled, determined not to burst into tears. He wouldn't cry. Not in front of this man. He straightened up, not even taking the bag. He'd ridicule himself for it later, but he didn't want anything from his parents. With his nose in the air, he turned and marched towards the door.

However, before he could slam it shut in his wake, he heard his father whisper four unmistakable words. Tiny words, but they hurt a lot more than Roderich would've liked them to. Because despite how much he hated his family at that moment, they were, after all, still his family.

_"You're not my son."_

 

* * *

 

 

Two hours later, he sat shivering on a park bench, wishing that he'd at least thought to grab his coat before he left. The night was unusually cold, and it was also pouring with rain.

At first, he'd gone back to the music shop, before the other shopkeeper (a bitter old woman who wasn't as kind as Mathieu) had demanded that he left, even though the shop didn't close for another hour. At first, he'd tried to hide under bus shelters to avoid the rain, trying to come to terms with the fact that he was now technically homeless, but he'd given up eventually after what felt like a few hundred bus drivers had glared at him, instead sitting outside and letting himself get utterly drenched.

He would have gone to Tino's - he knew that the Finn would help him - but he lived alone and was away on a weekend trip.

Of course, the obvious answer would've been to go to Elizabeta's house, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not only because of Gilbert, but he felt that he would be taking advantage of her kindness, when all he had done was betray her.

For the first time, he found himself wishing that he'd made more friends and not been so anti-social.

He shuddered. Even for England, it was horrifically cold for the summer, and he wondered how the rain hadn't yet turned into snow. He huddled up, trying to ignore the searing eyes of passers-by. He could practically hear their thoughts: _Another homeless waste, he'll be begging us for money come the morning._ Many pairs of footsteps passed him by, and he refused to look up, staring determinedly at the ground or his soaking-wet trousers.

 _Splish, splash._ More footsteps through the puddles. Roderich didn't want to look at the person, but when they halted before him, phrasing his name as a question, he couldn't help himself.

Elizabeta was stood there, wearing a soft green coat and holding a white umbrella over her head. She was staring down at him in confusion, but when he looked up, understanding flashed through her eyes. Silently, she held out a hand, helping him up.

Roderich didn't even try to protest as she led him through the streets, sheltering him under her umbrella. He was so cold that he had forgotten all of his protests and doubts.

She didn't ask what had happened. She could see that he didn't want to talk about it. _Lovely Elizabeta_ _. I don't deserve her at all._

Apparently, she had been home alone, for nobody called out a greeting when they entered the house, and she didn't offer any. "Come on," she murmured, pulling him upstairs to her en-suite bathroom, and handing him a towel. "Let's get some rest."

After he had dried off, and Elizabeta had brushed her teeth and washed her face, they lay down together on her double bed, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Except it wasn't, and Roderich was just pretending.

He didn't pull away when she began to kiss him, instead closing his mind and letting her lead the way. But he _couldn't_ close his mind. With the little energy it still had left, his brain was screaming at him to stop. He ignored it.

He didn't protest when she tugged off his shirt, gently but insistently, letting her trail her fingers over his torso.

He didn't stop her when she removed his glasses, resting them on the nightstand, and reaching into the drawer of her bedside table for a small packet. Roderich didn't need to ask what it was. He knew.

He didn't do anything. And eventually, he listened to his brain, listened to the words it was desperately screaming at him.

She was unbuckling his belt when he rested a hand on her arm. She looked at him in confusion, her mouth forming the words, but unable to get them out before he spoke.

"Elizabeta, stop."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please review :)


	9. Honesty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to calm the hell down with my updates.  
> I didn't actually mention it when they were first introduced, but USUK is canon in this fic (I mean, come on, I'm not going to put a bunch of other ships in and ignore one of my favourite ones) - just to clarify!  
> Enjoy!

" _Elizabeta_ , _stop."_

Her eyes widened in confusion, staring into his as if trying to look into his soul. "You don't want..?" She trailed off, looking slightly hurt.

 _Now's your chance. Pretend this is all a mess-up. Go back to her,_ his brain tried to tell him.

His heart said otherwise. Roderich closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. He shook his head, afraid to open his eyes and see the look in Elizabeta's.

For a moment, everything was quiet, and the silence in the room was deafening.  _Say something. You have to say something!_

"I knew it."

Roderich's eyes flew open of their own accord, shock written across his face, mouth slightly agape. He stared at his fiancee, but she had hung her head, staring at the bed beneath them. When she finally looked up, Roderich almost gasped in shock. Because for the first time in weeks, he really saw Elizabeta. Saw her pallid skin, and her tired, dead eyes.

She nodded as if to acknowledge his shock. "You look worse," she informed him casually. "When was the last time you looked in the mirror, Roddy?"

He found himself unable to speak, or even close his gaping jaw. He just stared on in shock.

She sighed, moving away from him to sit at the end of the bed. "I've known for ages," she began. "What sort of fiancee would I be if I hadn't noticed? I love you, after all."

He flinched, opening his mouth to apologise, to say anything to try and stop her from hurting. But she held up her hand, shaking her head.

"I thought tonight was my last chance," she continued. "Our last chance. A test. If you loved me, you wouldn't have pushed me away. But you don't love me, and you never did."

Roderich's voice cracked when he spoke, ignoring the hand she waved to tell him to be quiet. "Elizabeta... I'm so sorry." How woefully inadequate. After what he'd put her through, nothing could make up for the pain he'd caused her.  _She loves me, and I can't even apologise correctly._

"Don't apologise," she said, looking down again and closing her eyes, a hand holding together the blouse that she'd previously started to unbutton. "You can't help it." The silence fell again, and Roderich was scouring his brain for something to say that could possibly begin to make up for what he'd done to her, when she spoke again. "It's Gilbert, isn't it?" Her tone was emotionless, giving nothing away.

"...Yes..."

"I knew it," she said again, standing up and walking away, picking up his shirt and passing it to him.

Roderich dressed again in a hurry, shoving his glasses on his nose so forcefully that he almost broke a frame. "Elizabeta, I'm so sorry. I really, really am," he said, thinking of each word mere microseconds before he spoke it. "If there's anything I can do..." It was a pathetic offer, really. But pathetic seemed to be all that he had become.

"Go," she said, holding the door open, her voice as tired as her eyes had been.

He nodded, although she couldn't see it, standing up and walking towards the door. He paused when he came across her, one hand on the doorknob, the other trying to hold her blouse together. "Elizabeta..."

"Go!" She said, and when she looked up, Roderich noted with surprise that, despite everything, she was smiling. It was weak and fragile, but it was there. And something sparkled in her eyes when she looked at him - adoration, the realisation of which stabbed Roderich like a knife of guilt and shame. "Go after him," she continued, her tone shaky but bright. "Ever since the wedding rehearsal, he hasn't been quite right. He's gone out to that bar,  _Fritz_ or whatever. Go!" She ushered him, her smile stronger now, encouraging. _  
_

"Aren't you angry?" He asked in pure shock. "I don't understand why you're doing this."

Her smile turned slightly sad, but she answered his question anyway. "I love you enough to care about your happiness," she spoke quietly, pushing him gently out of her bedroom. "You'll never love me back, but this is the second best thing."

Her statement could've had multiple meanings, but Roderich didn't stop to ask which one she meant, a joyful smile lighting up his face. He would find Gilbert, and he would apologise for everything he'd said to him, and hope desperately that it would be enough. Elizabeta understood, and she wasn't even angry. She was  _encouraging_ him. The life he wanted desperately was finally within his reach.

He embraced her enthusiastically, for the first time in ages. He leant in and kissed her on the cheek, his first true smile for a while brightening his face, and when he pulled back, her own smile had become a lot stronger. She had understood what he had been trying to portray - he did love her. Maybe not in the way that she wanted him to, but it was love all the same. "Thank you," he whispered.

She laughed quietly, her own eyes lighting up properly for what Roderich realised was probably the first time in weeks. "Just go after him, you silly man!" She exclaimed, hitting him lightly. "He needs you more than I do."

Roderich didn't need to be told again, racing down the stairs, and was about to throw open the front door when somebody knocked on it.

He knew that it was somewhat rude to answer the door in somebody else's home, and would usually have called Elizabeta, but in his excitement, he opened it himself.

The sight that met him stopped him in his tracks.

Alfred and Arthur, Elizabeta's neighbours, were stood on the porch. Alfred's face was pink and tear-stained, and the Brit, who was the one who had knocked, stood slightly in front of him, his face a white mask of horror.

But that wasn't the worst part.

In Alfred's arms lay a body, unresponsive and covered in blood.

"Gilbert..?" Roderich asked, trailing off in horror.

He didn't even realise that he had screamed in anguish until Elizabeta came running down the stairs. "What is it? What's happened?" She called frantically, freezing when she saw the men at the door.

"We were walking home when we saw him..." Alfred spoke shakily. "He's been hit by a car. We've called an ambulance, but we couldn't just leave him lying there in the middle of the road..." His face fell and tears began to pour from his sky blue eyes, and he shook so badly that he had to pass Gilbert  to Elizabeta and Roderich to hold between them as they knelt on the floor, as Arthur tried his best to comfort the American.

"Gilbert?!" Roderich panicked, shaking the man when he showed no signs of responding.

"Roderich, stop!" Elizabeta yelled, resting her hands on his shoulders. "That's only going to make things worse, especially if he's broken something."

The Austrian knew this, of course, but the pure fear overwhelmed him.  _Gilbert might die. He might even already be... No! Stop!_ He wouldn't allow himself to think like that, trying his best to ignore the tears that were dripping on to Gilbert's bloodied face. Gilbert would recover. He had to. In his panic, he didn't even check for a pulse, too scared of what he might find. 

He heard sirens in the distance, drawing ever closer, and Arthur momentarily left the group to wave them over. Roderich wanted to protest when they took Gilbert away, wheeling him into the ambulance, but he knew that he couldn't.

"Miss, is this your step-brother?" One of the paramedics asked Elizabeta, who could only nod, her lips unable to move.

"Are you going to come in the ambulance with us?" He continued.

The Hungarian shook her head, standing on shaky legs and pulling Roderich up with her. "No, he is." She managed.

"But, Miss-"

"He's his fiancé," she lied easily, staring at the paramedic as if daring him to challenge her.

The man nodded understandingly. "Come on, then," he told Roderich, ushering him into the back of the ambulance.

"I'll be right behind you in my car," Elizabeta reassured him, pushing him gently. "Go, he needs you."

"Miss, no offence, but you're in no suitable condition to drive," one of the other paramedics insisted.

"Oh, I'll drive her, just bloody go!" Arthur exclaimed angrily. "Can't you see that he needs to get to hospital immediately?"

And so they departed, oblivious to the bloodied carpet and Alfred's ruined shirt, or even to the fact that Elizabeta left the front door unlocked. The ambulance whisked away into the night, and Roderich sat helplessly in a corner, watching the paramedics try to save Gilbert, as emergency sirens blared over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am open to verbal abuse - thank you for reading :)


	10. Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I hope you enjoy the chapter!  
> Also, I've only ever been to one funeral in my life and I can barely remember it, so I'm sorry if it's inaccurate.

"We are gathered here today to remember the life of Gilbert Beilschmidt, and the love and joy he brought to everyone around him."

Roderich sat frozen in his seat, feeling as empty as the silence that echoed around the gardens when the Priest wasn't speaking. He wasn't crying. He wasn't even present, really. Sat beside him was Elizabeta, who was dressed in black and sobbing silently into a small white handkerchief. Awkwardly, he reached his arm around her. It wasn't much of a comfort, but she buried her head in his shoulder all the same, soaking his suit the way he'd drenched Tino's on that horrible evening.

"Gilbert was a kind and thoughtful soul," the Minister went on. "And he was always willing to help anyone and everyone."

Roderich could practically hear Gilbert's laughter. _Kind and thoughtful? Really?_ Not only that, but they were also insisting on burying him, despite the fact that Gilbert had (apparently) commented several times when he was younger that he'd much rather be cremated.

The day after the wedding rehearsal, Roderich had thought that had been the worst day of his life. But that pain had been nothing compared to this. _He died, never knowing that I care about him._ He thought that phrase a lot now. As if the fact that he'd never thought (or even realised) it when Gilbert was alive could be repaid by thinking about it every other moment.

The Minister had been droning on all through Roderich's thoughts, but his next words snapped the Austrian back to the present. "And now, Gilbert's step-sister Elizabeta would like to say a few words," he announced, stepping back to make room for Elizabeta, who quickly wiped her face and went to stand before the coffin.

She unfolded a piece of crumpled, slightly torn paper, and frowned down at it. The Hungarian shook her head, before looking through the crowd - and straight at Roderich.

"Roderich," she called. "Roddy!"

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He was jolted awake by Elizabeta, shaking his shoulders roughly and repeating his name.

He started, his eyes flying open as he looked around the unfamiliar place. "Where... Where am I?" He asked her, rubbing his violet eyes.

"In the visitor's lounge," she replied, releasing him. "You fell asleep, again." She looked at him, worried. "You should probably go home..." She suggested, but judging by her tone she already knew that it was a hopeless attempt.

"No," he shook his head. "I have to know." Was his only form of explanation. He sighed in relief. _It was only a dream._

She nodded, knowing that he would say that. "Well, I woke you up because-"

But why she woke him up, Roderich would never know, because at that moment, the tall, intimidating Russian doctor that had been trying to help Gilbert strode into the visitors room, looking at them.

Elizabeta immediately jumped up, Roderich staggering to his feet and following close behind.

"You are Ms Elizabeta, his step-sister?" Dr Braginski asked.

"Yes," Elizabeta replied, all business. She gestured to Roderich. "And this is his fiancé, Mr Edelstein."

 _I wish,_ Roderich thought. Still, he nodded in agreement to Elizabeta's statement, hoping that the doctor would believe them.

Fortunately, the doctor didn't question this, instead looking at his clipboard. "Mr Beilschmidt has been stabilized," he announced, and Roderich almost fainted in relief.

That was, until the doctor continued. "However, his condition is very serious, so my colleague and I have induced a coma." His light, cheerful voice almost took away the gravity of his words - but not quite.

Elizabeta's eyes narrowed. "How serious?" She asked, her voice slightly shaky.

Dr Braginski's bright expression didn't change. "My colleague Dr Wang is working to determine that," he replied, his slight smile remaining. "You can go in and see him very soon, I think."

They thanked the doctor, who left almost immediately, and sat back down, Dr Braginski's words hurtling around his mind like boomerangs. _How serious is serious? What if he never wakes up?_ Roderich thought in a panic, the other part of his brain desperately trying to stop this before he started hyperventilating.

Fortunately for Roderich, a loud voice chose that moment to forcefully cut off his mental screaming.

Alfred was hurrying towards them waving a bag in the air, followed by Arthur and Laura, who were deep in conversation - although Arthur kept stealing glances at the American, as if worried that he was going to damage the contents of the bag.

"Dudes!" Alfred announced. "We went to get coffee when we picked up Laura, because this hospital stuff totally sucks," he spoke loudly, oblivious to the disapproving glares that various nurses and doctors were sending him.

"Thanks," Elizabeta replied weakly, accepting her coffee and looking slightly overwhelmed. Fortunately, Laura seemed to notice this, and hurried over to embrace her friend.

Roderich drank his coffee in silence, not listening to their conversation, not paying attention to anything. He sat there emptily, staring absently at the polystyrene cup, his mind whirling with worry and fear. He tried counting to ten to calm down - and old trick of his, but this time it did little good, only slowing the thoughts down, not stopping them. Horrible thoughts trailed sluggishly in his mind, spoken by the Voice of Doom itself. _He's never going to get better. He's as good as dead already. He's going to die, and whilst he does, he's going to think that you hated him. If he can remember you at all._

"Shut up!" Roderich cried, unaware that he'd spoken (or rather, shouted) that out loud until he felt dozens of pairs of eyes on him.

Arthur's eyes flickered around the group nervously. "Maybe we should give him some space..." he suggested, putting his hand on Alfred's shoulder.

"No," Alfred replied, looking determined. "You can go. I have to talk to him."

"I don't think it's a good time," Laura interjected, looking doubtful.

"Let him speak to Roddy," Elizabeta said, looking tired. She turned back to Laura and Arthur, forcing a smile. "Come on, let's go and see if we can find Dr Braginski," she suggested, standing up and walking off without waiting for her friends.

Laura followed behind her instantly, and eventually, so did Arthur, after whispering something to Alfred before he left, too.

Alfred sat down next to Roderich, looking serious. "This shouldn't have happened," he began instantly.

Roderich raised his eyebrows, as if to say _tell me about it,_ but didn't actually reply.

"I'm being serious," Alfred continued in a low voice. "There's like, five houses on our street. I mean, hardly anyone actually lives down there," he raised his eyebrows, as if this would explain to Roderich what he was getting at.

It didn't. The Austrian was still clueless. "What are you implying?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

Alfred sighed as if it was obvious. "I mean," he said. "That everyone drives really slowly. Because, like, it's a really calm neighbourhood. Apart from when somebody has a party-" he shook his head, as if trying to keep himself from getting side-tracked. "Anyway, he shouldn't have been hit, because whoever was driving should have seen him from a mile away, and they all drive really slowly."

Roderich frowned suspiciously. Whilst he knew that Alfred was only trying to help, the American definitely seemed like the sort to get carried away and exaggerate and make everything more dramatic than it really was. Then again... What if he was right? He'd visited Elizabeta's house plenty of times, even back when they were still just friends and Gilbert was still living with his father and brother (before they moved to Italy). He himself knew how slowly everybody drove, and it was a secluded neighbourhood - nobody drove down there accidently, especially not drunk drivers - which is what he had assumed was the cause of the accident - and it was hardly out in the open. Could it be..?

"You think somebody did this on purpose?" Roderich asked, eyes wide with shock.

Alfred backed up slightly. "Well, I'm not _saying_ that for real, because I don't know. And I can't think why anybody would want to run him over - I mean, come on, he's almost as popular as me!" He grinned, despite the gravity of the situation.

 _I can,_ Roderich realised with horror, before dismissing the idea. It was simply too awful to be true.

Alfred frowned, seeing Roderich's expression. "Dude? You okay? Stupid question. But seriously, are you alright?" He asked, his eyes growing wide with worry.

"I..." He trailed off, standing up as if to go somewhere - where exactly, he didn't know.

At that moment, Elizabeta, Laura and Arthur came hurrying around the corner, the latter two racing to keep up with the wild-eyed Hungarian, Arthur flipping off anyone who shouted "no running!" as they ran towards Roderich and Alfred.

"We can see him!" Elizabeta exclaimed, practically jumping for joy. "Come on!"

They all strode (having finally decided to abide by the "no running" rule) to a small room, where Gilbert was apparently by himself, unless you counted the presence of the many machines he was hooked up to.

A Chinese doctor with dark brown hair in a short ponytail and an ID card reading "Dr Yao Wang" was stood outside, examining a clip board when the five people came towards him. He looked up, before glancing back at the door.

"I'm afraid it is only one visitor at a time," he said, throwing several nervous glances at the door to the room as if the mere presence of all six of them stood outside could cause Gilbert's immediate demise.

"How's he doing?" Elizabeta asked immediately, ignoring the doctor's previous statement.

"He's stable," the doctor replied, looking as if he was reading right off his clipboard. "He has several fractured ribs, and has suffered internal bleeding, as well as a punctured lung. Also, his right leg has been badly broken. We are uncertain as to what his state will be when - if - he wakes up. I'm afraid he has a few head injuries. We are working to determine the severity of these wounds, but in the meantime, he is allowed visitors." At least he looked compassionate, as if he was at least aware that every word he had spoken had been like a separate blow to Roderich's chest. "I'm very sorry," he added - as if Gilbert was already gone.

 _If he wakes up!_ The Voice of Doom repeated the doctor's words gleefully. Roderich forced himself to ignore this. "I have to see him," he announced, almost begging Dr Wang.

The doctor frowned, picking a pen out of his pocket. "Who are you?" He asked, his pen poised above his clipboard.

"Roderich Edelstein," he told the doctor. "I'm his fiancé," he added, easily repeating Elizabeta's lie.

Dr Wang nodded, holding open the door. "Please don't touch any wires or tubes," he instructed, as if this wasn't already obvious.

Roderich nodded, before turning back to the group, an apology in his eyes when he looked at Elizabeta. She didn't seem to mind, though. She nodded at him, encouragingly, as Arthur tugged on Alfred's sleeve, saying "let's go home," quietly in a reassuring voice.

Laura, however, looked confused. She sent Elizabeta a questioning frown, but the Hungarian shook her head, smiling sadly, and Laura's eyes widened in astonishment. Roderich never did understand how women could communicate with each other like that. What on earth did they - oh. Of course. Roderich had called himself Gilbert's fiancé. He opened his mouth by default, as if to explain, but Dr Wang cleared his throat.

"Are you going in or not?" He asked, his voice growing slightly irritable.

"Of course - sorry," Roderich responded, before leaving the group and entering the room, closing the door behind him.

It was almost entirely white, and Roderich was reminded with a shudder of the Healer's home. On the white bed, Gilbert was lying, impossibly still, hooked up with more wires and tubes than Roderich cared to count. The Prussian looked so out of place - his face was still and expressionless, his crimson eyes closed.

Roderich sat down on the cold plastic chair next to the bed, hesitating for a moment before he reached out and took Gilbert's hand, being careful not to jostle anything. The small, white clock in the room struck midnight. Today was the day he was supposed to marry Elizabeta.

The Prussian's hand wasn't particularly cold, or warm. Neither clammy, nor dry. It was just a hand. It didn't seem at all like Gilbert's.

Roderich looked at the heart monitor, its' steady beeping soothing him slightly. Gilbert was all right. For now, at least. And before he knew what he was doing, Roderich was talking.

"Gilbert," he whispered, as if the man was merely sleeping. "Gilbert, I'm so sorry."

He was almost disappointed when the Prussian didn't respond. Not that he'd expected him to - after all, Gilbert was currently comatose.

"This seems so stupid to say," Roderich continued. "When you probably can't even hear me. But I can't..."

He'd been so focused on Gilbert that he didn't even realise that he was crying until a tear dripped onto the Prussian's unresponsive hand.

Roderich raised his free hand to his face in shock, tracing the tear track down his face. How could he not realise that he was crying? He took a deep breath, and continued. "I can't let you die. Promise me, Gilbert, that you won't die," more tears were falling now, and his voice was becoming heavy. Nevertheless, he continued, battling on. "And I simply can't bear that you're lying here, not knowing that I..." Another deep breath. "I don't hate you, Gilbert. I could never do that." A weak smile. "Gilbert, I love you. And I know that you can't hear me, and that even if you can you probably think it's cowardly of me to say it when you can't respond," he laughed to himself, and then stopped because it felt wrong. "But I have to say it now. In case you don't..." _In case you don't wake up._

He leant back in his chair, when he suddenly felt something digging into his pocket, as if it had only just appeared. Curious as to what was in his own trouser pocket, he reached in, and, with great confusion, pulled out the vial of blue magic dust that Tino had given to him. How odd - he didn't remember putting it there. Of course, he must have done, because despite how odd it was, turning up now, he didn't delude himself with things like magic. Then again, the way it had just seemed to make its' presence known now...

He popped the lid off, and the scent of flowers filled the air. A very strong scent to come from such a small vial.

Before he could stop himself, he'd sprinkled some of the dust on Gilbert's chest - or at least, the part that wasn't beneath the thin white blanket.

Roderich couldn't help himself - he knew it was ridiculous, but despite his doubts, he closed his eyes and whispered, "please wake up."

Gilbert didn't move. Of course he didn't.

Roderich had known that some sparkly dust wouldn't really make a difference, but he was suddenly angry anyway, and was about to throw the rest of the contents of the vial in the bin, when he realised that the small bottle was now empty.

 _What on earth?_ He thought, his eyes widening in wonder and surprise. _I only used a tiny amount..._

He shook his head, confused, and pocketed the empty vial without really registering that he'd done it. He leant down to place a single kiss on Gilbert's hand, and then stood up abruptly, leaving the hospital room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading - there's probably only going to be two or three more after this. Which is a shame, because I've enjoyed writing it, but I'm planning more fics!


	11. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> It's looking like this is going to be the second to last proper chapter. However, there's still an epilogue coming, so it's not quite over yet :)

Silence echoed throughout the church. Roderich's palms were sweaty, and his skin prickled with the knowledge that there were one hundred and forty seven pairs of eyes fixated upon him. Luckily, the wedding guests would put his jittering down to nerves and his tense shoulders down to anticipation. Which would actually be correct, but not for the reasons they were thinking.

By the time he and Elizabeta had left the hospital, it had been far too late to formally cancel the wedding, especially when relatives had flown in from central Europe to attend it. Therefore, they had decided to go ahead with the wretched affair - sort of.

The blaring of the organ cut through the thick air, far too loud for Roderich's taste. He felt as if his senses were weakened by it, but this was simply another thing he could attribute to nerves. Suddenly, he felt another pair of eyes on him, and he could visualise the scene perfectly: Elizabeta in her beautiful white dress, walking down the aisle alone because she personally found the whole "giving away" idea stupid and sexist, as if she were property being passed from one man to another. The veil would be shrouding her face, and _damn it,_ why did she have to walk so slowly? Roderich wanted nothing more than to get this whole mess over with.

At long last, she reached the altar, standing beside Roderich, and she reached out to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. Roderich could barely hear a thing over the organ, but he could've sworn he saw her mouth "hang in there!" at him.

The music stopped.

The Priest cleared his throat, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Elizabeta squeezed his hand tightly.

_It's now or never._

"Wait," he managed to choke out. He took a deep breath, before turning to face the audience, pulling Elizabeta around with him. He recognised many faces. Tino was sat in his Best Man's chair, discreetly giving Roderich a supportive thumbs up. Laura, in her lilac bridesmaid's dress, watching the scene intently. Alfred, Arthur, Kiku and Heracles were all sat on a row together, wearing varying expressions from surprise to mild curiosity. His eyes continued to scan the crowd, dipping over his parents (who had actually had the nerve to show up) in their poshest evening wear, and Elizabeta's father and step-mother, who he couldn't bring himself to look at. And there, sat not far behind, was Gilbert's family. His father sat next to Ludwig, who, along with Feliciano, was looking on in shock and confusion. They were accompanied by Feliciano's grouchy-looking brother, Lovino, and Mathieu, who was sat with Antonio and Francis, who were not-so-subtly scanning the crowds for Gilbert. Roderich smiled slightly. So the Prussian had managed to convince Elizabeta to invite them, after all.

A squawk came from somewhere in the audience, and a tiny old lady (undoubtedly one of Elizabeta's many Aunts) stood up. "What on earth is going on?" She asked, although Roderich didn't understand this as it was spoken in Hungarian.

He looked at Elizabeta desperately, and she nodded in understanding. She raised her chin in the air, although when she spoke, she couldn't quite stop her voice from wobbling. "I'm afraid that there isn't going to be a wedding today," she said. "Or ever, in fact. At least, not between Roddy and I."

A collective gasp sounded throughout the church, which was filled with the buzz of several voices mere moments later, as approximately fifty conversations commenced all at once. Elizabeta released his hand, giving him a look as if to say "you do it," which really, was fair enough.

He cleared his throat, stepping forward, and an eerie quiet descended. "We apologise sincerely for wasting your time," he forced himself to say. "However, you are very welcome to attend the reception. Thank you all for coming," he said hurriedly, going quiet and stepping back.

The loud chatter continued, and amongst the crowd, Roderich saw his parents, hopping over chairs and pushing their way through people, storming towards him. He froze.

Elizabeta laughed darkly. "It's a shame I left my frying pan at home." She pushed him towards the back exit of the church.

Roderich looked at her sharply. "You don't have to do this," he said quickly.

"Go on, get out of here!" She insisted. "I'll take care of this."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"...And so I came straight here," Roderich completed his short tale, clasping Gilbert's hand in his own. "At least, I would've done," he smiled warmly. "But your family wanted to see you first."

It was ten o'clock in the evening, and the accident had happened almost twenty-four hours ago. Since then, he'd been spending as much time as possible with Gilbert. He knew that expecting him to wake up so soon was ridiculous: although Dr Wang had confirmed that Gilbert's head injuries weren't very severe, and so they were going to start decreasing the medicine so that he could wake up, the Prussian still wouldn't be able to wake up so soon. However, Roderich hated the idea that Gilbert might wake up alone, especially when the doctors still didn't know what state he would be in when he awoke - Dr Braginski said that only time would tell.

A knock at the door disrupted his train of thought, and the door opened to reveal two familiar faces. Since they were easing off the medication, Dr Wang had upped the visitor limit to two people at once, so Roderich rose to leave.

Francis sauntered into the room, giving a short wave to Roderich before he sat down on the other chair. "Mon dieu, this is terrible," he murmured, raising one hand to Gilbert's forehead. "I do hope he's okay..."

Antonio greeted Roderich, a sunny smile on his face despite the situation. "He'll be fine, the intimidating doctor said he'll wake up soon," he reassured Francis, before turning back to Roderich, who was almost out the door. "Wait!"

"Yes?" Roderich asked, wondering what the Spaniard could possibly want from him.

"How does "Bad Touch Trio" sound as a band name?"

Francis groaned. "Not now, Toni."

"It sounds... Like it has negative implications," Roderich replied. "Why would you use that as a band name?"

Antonio ignored the glare that Francis was sending him. "It's because of something Elizabeta said once," he said vaguely, and Roderich decided that he'd rather not know. "Anyway, we've been asking our significant others what they think. And seeing as Gilbert's - well, I thought I'd ask you for him," he smiled brightly.

A slight smile settled on Roderch's face before he could stop it, and he didn't bother to correct them about being Gilbert's "significant other". "What did the others say?" He asked, genuinely curious.

Antonio's smile disappeared. "I don't think Lovi likes it very much. Or Mathieu, for that matter," he frowned, going to sit on Roderich's chair by the bed. "Oh well."

Roderich said goodbye to the two men, before leaving the room. He purchased a coffee from the little café, trying to ignore the taste of tar it left in his mouth.

He turned to go back to the visitor's lounge, when he almost bumped in to somebody. "Laura?" He asked, wondering why on earth she was at the hospital.

Laura Maes stood there, still wearing her bridesmaid's dress, although she had thrown a white coat on over it. "Roderich," she greeted stiffly. "Wait here, please," she requested, although it sounded far more like an instruction. She bought herself a coffee, before gesturing for him to follow her to one of the tables in the corner.

Slightly confused, he sat down opposite her, her watchful green eyes on him as he awkwardly sipped his coffee. "You wanted to see me..?" He prompted when she didn't speak.

She leant towards him, her eyes narrow. "How dare you," she snarled, her face not suiting the angry look it currently bore. Roderich didn't get chance to reply before she spoke again. "I cannot believe your nerve, Edelstein," she hissed venomously, sounding worryingly like Elizabeta when she was angry. "She loves you, you know. And you just went and broke her heart."

Roderich slumped in his chair. "I know," he sighed sorrowfully.

"Why?" Laura asked, her voice trembling with rage. "Why even propose to her at all? She loves you," she repeated, and Roderich heard something in her voice - heartbreak, but not only second-handed.

His eyes widened. "You..." He realised. Suddenly, he understood her constant hostility towards him.

She looked up sharply, her eyes like fire. She opened her mouth to speak, but her face fell, crumpling like paper as tears appeared in her own eyes. "You have no idea what it's like," she whispered. "Watching the person you love be in love with somebody else."

Roderich could hardly dispute that. "I'm so sorry," he murmured. It was all he could say.

She laughed bitterly. "When you proposed, she was so happy. She came to my house the very next day, and she was so excited, and I just saw my brother looking at me like..." She trailed off miserably. "And I thought, maybe I'll never get to have her, but if that's the price for her happiness, I'm willing to pay it."

Mixed emotions were piling up in Roderich's gut, but mostly guilt. That was exactly what Elizabeta had done for him. Two women had sacrificed so much, and all because he was too afraid to stand up to his parents. In that moment, he hated himself as much as he had done when he said those awful things to Gilbert. _Why do I have to be such a coward?_

Laura looked like she wanted to say more, but at that moment, one of the staff members appeared by their table. "I'm sorry, but the café is closing now."

Roderich glanced around, and noticed in shock that the café was completely empty, apart from himself, Laura and the last few members of staff. "Of course," He nodded, getting to his feet and throwing the still half-full polystyrene coffee cup in the bin.

He turned to exit the café, waiting for Laura, who came to walk silently by his side.

"I'm sorry," he said again, hating the woeful inadequacy of the words as he said them.

She shook her head, tired. "Just go home, Roderich," she advised. "You need to sleep."

Roderich paused, his mouth open as if to reply, but not knowing what to say.

Suddenly, Antonio raced around the corner, apologising profusely all the way. "Dr Wang!" He called. "Dr Braginski!"

The two doctors came out of the staff lounge almost immediately, and Roderich panicked. _What's happening? Is Gilbert-_

Antonio reached them, panting for breath but grinning widely. He waved Roderich over enthusiastically.

"What is it?" Dr Wang asked with wide eyes.

"It's Gilbert," Antonio smiled, laughing with relief. "He's awake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	12. Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is it - the last chapter.  
> I'm going to save all of the rest of the things I want to say for the epilogue, though. So for now, enjoy!

Roderich was stunned to silence, unable to respond even when the two doctors made excited noises and started running through the maze of corridors along with Antonio, ignoring their own rules.

It was Laura who finally got him to move, tapping on his shoulder until he started. "Come on!" She exclaimed, smiling genuinely at him for the first time. She pulled out her mobile phone as she went, calling Elizabeta and telling her to get straight there, her eyes alight.

Roderich was so happy that for a moment, he forgot about the terrible things he'd said to Gilbert, forgot that they'd parted on bad terms. Because when he burst into the room, he didn't even see Francis, Antonio, Laura, or either of the doctors. He just saw the Prussian, sitting up in the bed and blinking his crimson eyes rapidly as he tried to adjust to the bright white of the hospital room. He didn't notice Dr Braginski and Dr Wang conferring in rapid fire - what he did notice was the way Gilbert's eyes widened slightly, and he whispered the Austrian's name in a hoarse voice. He didn't hear Dr Wang reprimanding him and telling him to be careful, or Dr Braginski's quiet laughter. He only heard his own heartbeat in his ears.

And he didn't feel the room grow silent. He only felt Gilbert's arms wrapping around him, and the Prussian smile against his hair.

When Roderich finally pulled away, he looked up at Gilbert in shock. "Are you really alright?" He whispered.

Gilbert chuckled, as with his throat, it was the most he could manage. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Specs."

He tore his eyes away from Gilbert, and glanced around the room to see Antonio, Francis, and even Laura smiling. Dr Wang was muttering, looking slightly irritated, but Dr Braginski had a hand on his shoulder and was practically beaming.

Roderich embraced Gilbert again, whispering what seemed like a thousand apologies, but the other just patted his head, still smiling.

"This is nice, don't you think?" Dr Braginski asked cheerfully.

"Yes," Dr Wang agreed reluctantly, but he walked over to the bed all the same, gripping his clipboard. "But I really need to examine Mr Beilschmidt now," he hinted heavily, staring down at Roderich, who straightened up immediately - or at least, he would've done, if Gilbert hadn't pulled him straight back down.

"Quite right, I do apologise," he said to Dr Wang, hissing at Gilbert. "You have to let go of me!"

Gilbert frowned, like a child who'd had his favourite toy taken away. "I do?"

"I'll come back very soon," Roderich promised, squirming slightly. As much as he liked being held this way, he knew that Gilbert's health was far more important - this could wait.

"All right," Gilbert agreed, grumbling. "Hey, wait!" He protested when Roderich tried to pull away, and he pulled him back down for a moment longer, and kissed him.

Roderich almost fell over in shock, but he kissed Gilbert back all the same, forgetting that they were in a hospital room with five other people.

Kissing Elizabeta - the few times he'd actually done so - had not been unpleasant. It had been like a slow warmth, spreading through him, but somehow it never seemed to be enough. Kissing Gilbert wasn't like that at all. No, this was more like having a thousand fireworks go off in his mind, in the best way possible. The warmth was still there, but this was far more satisfying.

Again, it was like everything else disappeared - a cliche, but that was really how it felt. He couldn't even hear Francis saying "get in there!" or Antonio's clapping.

Eventually, Roderich came to his senses, and realised with regret that he really did have to pull away now. He leant back, smiling, not speaking. He didn't have to - his eyes portrayed what his words could not. And Gilbert understood, smiling in return.

When Dr Wang finally managed to usher everybody out, they made their way into the visitor's room, just in time to see Elizabeta run through the front doors of the hospital, accompanied by Apor, Elze, Gilbert's father, Ludwig, Feliciano, and even Lovino.

"Yippee!" Elizabeta exclaimed, running towards Laura and bodily lifting her from the ground, spinning her around in midair.

Antonio looked overjoyed to see Lovino, and his eyes lit up. "Lovi!" He squealed, ignoring the Italian's weak protests of "get off me, you bastard!"

Francis rolled his eyes at this, and whipped out his phone to call Mathieu, practically jumping up and down in excitement.

Roderich smiled to himself - it was almost as if everyone was getting reunited, even if Lovino had already seen Antonio several times since arriving in England, and Elizabeta and Laura spent a lot of time together anyway.

Apor, Elze and Gilbert's father went to confer with Dr Braginski, who had left the hospital room with them, whilst Ludwig and Feliciano hurried towards Roderich.

"How is he?" Ludwig asked, getting straight to the point.

"He's fine," Roderich began to laugh to himself, overjoyed and relieved. "He's fine," he repeated, smiling, glad that he could say the words and know that they were true.

"Yay!" Feliciano exclaimed, despite never actually having met Gilbert, unless that Skype call counted. "We were getting really worried."

Ludwig huffed a little, smiling. "No, I knew he'd be fine."

A moment later, Alfred, Arthur, Heracles and Kiku burst in, along with Tino, and Roderich wondered how many more people were going to show up - according to Francis, Mathieu would be there shortly. As it was, the group was getting many disapproving glares from other visitors and staff.

Tino bounded over to Roderich, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm so happy for you," he gushed.

"Thank you," Roderich nodded, thinking back to the Magic Dust. Although he knew that it hadn't really had anything to do with Gilbert's recovery, he still smiled remembering it.

Ten minutes later, Mathieu had arrived (and exchanged several shocked looks with Alfred), when Dr Wang appeared, striding towards the group which now consisted of seventeen members, not including him and Dr Braginski. The crowd fell silent when he approached, waiting for his assessment with bated breath.

He took one look at them, and sighed. "I suppose you're all relatives or close friends of Mr Beilschmidt?" He asked tiredly. Without waiting for an answer, he cleared his throat, his eyes falling back to his clipboard. "Mr Beilschmidt is expected to make a full recovery," he announced.

A cheer went up amongst the group.

"However," Dr Wang continued, "he will be confined to a wheelchair for six weeks, whilst his broken leg and arm heal. Other than that," he looked up, a smile gracing his features. "He is absolutely fine."

Another cheer, louder now, and Roderich wished that Gilbert was here to see this. Then again, maybe that wasn't necessary, as after embraces were exchanged, the entire group rushed to Gilbert's room, hugging and kissing him, trying to be careful of his injuries - at least, apart from Antonio and Francis, who seemingly would've leapt onto the bed if Dr Braginski and Ludwig hadn't pulled them back. The small room was crowded and they were making a lot of noise, but nobody seemed to care - even Dr Wang was grinning as he high-fived Dr Braginski.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Several hours later, it was eight o'clock in the morning, and only Roderich remained, snoozing by Gilbert's bedside as the Prussian slept as well.

Although visiting hours had only just started, there were already two pairs of footsteps echoing down the corridors, and they reached Gilbert's hospital room, the owners throwing the door open with a bang.

Roderich was startled awake, and looked up with dread into the furious faces of his parents.

"Oh, look," his father mocked, fuming. "Isn't this sweet."

"Roderich," his mother snarled. "Get the hell out of here."

Roderich was speechless, unable to speak as he stared up at his parents, shaking.

Nadine Edelstein sighed. "We realise that maybe we overreacted a little, throwing you out like that," she said, looking as if it pained her to admit it. "But come home now, and we can leave all this behind us."

 _What? No, there has to be a catch,_ Roderich thought.

A second later, he was proved right. "We're going to move to America," Stefan announced. "Somewhere in the southern states, we think. Maybe Texas."

"What?" He managed, his voice a croak.

"Yes, come on," his mother said, her eyes desperate as she dragged her son up. "We'll go and pack right now."

"No - stop!" Roderich protested as he was pulled from the room, struggling. "Let me go!"

"Hey! What are you doing to Specs?" A hoarse voice asked, and the three of them looked over in surprise to Gilbert's bed, where crimson eyes watched warily. They'd all thought he was still sleeping.

"It's none of your business," Stefan sneered, opening the door. "Now come on, Roderich."

"I don't think he wants to," Gilbert challenged, smirking. He looked at Roderich. "Do you, Specs?"

"N-no," Roderich mumbled, his eyes wide with fright at his parent's expressions. He mentally begged Gilbert to stop talking.  _I'll do whatever's necessary as long as they don't hurt him._

He didn't realise that he'd said this aloud until his father shook his head. "We won't do anything to your... Friend, Roderich. Now come on!"

"No!" Gilbert protested, his eyes wide. He looked straight at Roderich. "I'm not going to call the doctors," he informed him. "Because this means nothing if you don't do it yourself. You have to stand up to them!"

"Shut it, bastard!" Nadine yelled, furious. "My son is-"

 _He's right, you know,_ Roderich's thoughts trailed around his mind.  _This is it. You have to fight!_

"No!" He exclaimed, yanking his wrist out of his mother's hold, cutting her off mid-tirade.

"What?" Stefan snarled.

Roderich forced himself to stand up straight despite his fear, although he was shaking in fright. "Leave," he trembled. "And I won't tell anyone what you did."

"What do you mean?" It was a rare occasion that Nadine Edelstein ever looked worried, but now was one of those times.

"We haven't done anything illegal!" Stefan spluttered, fuming.

Alfred's words echoed in his mind.  _This shouldn't have happened. He shouldn't have been hit._ He'd buried the idea in the depths of his mind, not wanting to believe that his own family, as much as he hated to call them that, could do something that awful. But now it bubbled up, and Roderich welcomed it - because anyone could see the truth in Nadine's eyes. She'd recognised him from the picture on Kiku's page, and when she'd seen him that night...

"Maybe you haven't," to his surprise, it was Gilbert speaking. "Your wife, on the other hand..." He trailed off, smirking.

"Nadine?!" Stefan exclaimed.

His wife was trembling, her eyes narrow. She didn't reply to her husband, instead pointing at Gilbert, glaring. "I'll get you!"

"You already did," he deadpanned, holding up his broken arm.

With a shriek of fury, Nadine turned and stormed out of the room, Stefan staring after her in shock. He turned to shoot a glare at Gilbert, and then at his son. "Consider yourself no longer an Edelstein," he snarled, before running out after his wife.

"Gladly," Roderich whispered into the silence, feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He'd finally done it. He'd finally stood up to his parents. He looked back at Gilbert, his expression wondrous. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it, Specs," he opened his arms, gesturing for Roderich to come over. When he did so, he hugged him quickly, before drawing away. "So..." He trailed off.

"I know. My parents are awful. I'm really sorry about them."

"No, that wasn't what I was going to say..." He trailed off again, raising his eyebrows.

Roderich narrowed his eyes, confused, "What are you getting at?"

Gilbert snorted. "For someone so smart, Specs, you sure are slow on the uptake sometimes."

"Hey!"

"What I'm trying to say, is..." He closed his eyes for a moment. "You're not an Edelstein anymore."

Roderich smiled, bemused. "No, I'm not."

Gilbert took a deep breath, staring down at the bed. "So... Would you consider becoming a Beilschmidt?"

"What?" Roderich couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Gilbert-"

"I don't mean right now!" He interrupted him hurriedly, still staring down. "We haven't known each other for a long time, so we should get to know each other first - I mean, you know, sometime in the future..." He glanced up, uncharacteristically nervous. "Because that would be totally awesome," he whispered, his eyes wide and vulnerable.

"Gilbert," Roderich said, when the Prussian's eyes dropped again. He put one hand on Gilbert's chin, gently tilting his face up to look him in the eyes. "I would love to."

Gilbert's face broke into a wide grin. "Really, Specs?"

"Really." He paused thoughtfully. And then: "I love you."

"I love you too."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops cheesy.  
> Thanks for reading :)  
> (I'm not sure I'd want Ivan as a doctor, but whatever. I think I could trust Yao, though XD)


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is - the last chapter.  
> I really want to say, thank you all so much for sticking with this fic, and reading, bookmarking, commenting, and leaving kudos. It really does mean a lot to know that people have enjoyed the result of my weird thinking!  
> I'll hopefully be writing more Hetalia fics in the future. This is my first multi-chapter Hetalia fic, and it's been awesome to write, so I hope that if you ever see anymore of my stuff, you like that too.  
> Enjoy the epilogue!

*Thirteen Years Later*

 

"And now, it is our pleasure to introduce to our stage, questionably named, but very popular: The Bad Touch Trio!"

Cheers went up amongst the crowd as Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio strode confidently onto the stage, grinning and waving to the thousands of people in the crowd at the music festival. Francis had even gotten into the habit of throwing dozens of roses into the crowd, a different colour for every concert. This time they were white, although Francis saved the biggest one, pinning it to his jacket to give to Mathieu later, as he always did, before picking up his drumsticks and going to sit behind his drum kit.

"He's so sweet," Elizabeta remarked in amusement from where she sat next to Roderich on the ground, right at the back of the crowd.

Laura rolled her eyes from Elizabeta's other side, but she was smiling. "Really, you'd think I never did anything for you."

The Hungarian winked at her partner. "Oh, you do plenty for me, darling," she smiled, leaning in to kiss the Belgian woman.

"Um, daddy, they're kissing again!" A little voice said, and Roderich looked down fondly at the five year old boy tugging his sleeve.

"I know, Andreas," he replied, lifting his son up to sit on his knee. He mock-glared at the couple. "Really, they're a very bad influence," he said loudly when things started to show signs of getting heated.

Laura pulled away, her face red. "Sorry," she mumbled, looking down at the ground and trying to hide her grin.

Elizabeta opened her mouth to say something when Gilbert's voice cut through the crowd, and when they looked up at the stage, the Prussian was stood there, grinning and holding a microphone, his bass guitar hanging on a strap around his neck.

"Welcome, everybody!" He announced, his grin showing his teeth. "To our totally awesome set!"

The crowd cheered again, and Roderich was glad that the group had chosen to sit at the back, as they seemed to be getting very enthusiastic. No doubt, this was partly due to the fact that Antonio had (probably accidently) left his shirt unbuttoned, and Roderich could practically see Lovino drooling, although the Italian had his back to the Austrian as he, along with Kiku and Heracles, had no children to watch out for and so had joined the crowd.

The trio tended to distribute the singing duties, as they all had good voices and liked to do so, although the responsibility mainly fell to Antonio. However, Gilbert was showing no signs of putting down the microphone as he continued to talk to the excitable crowd, explaining that they would start with a few covers before moving on to their own songs.

"Is papa going to sing?" Andreas' twin sister, Alexandra, asked Roderich, clambering onto his lap to sit next to her brother.

"It certainly looks that way," Roderich replied, smiling, as he freed one of his arms to reach into the backpack Laura had brought along for the twins. "Now, do either of you want cookies? Auntie Laura made them."

The twins squealed in delight, practically tearing the backpack open to get at the abundance of sugary foods that Laura took the delight in baking for them. His eyes lit up as he watched them. Six years ago, Roderich and Gilbert had decided that they'd like to have children. Although, of course, this wasn't biologically possible, the twins had been theirs from the moment they were born, and all the adoption papers had finally been signed. Alexandra and Andreas even looked a like their parents - they had Gilbert's features as well as his smile, but they both had the same hair colour as Roderich, and similar eyes. Whilst this may have been pure coincidence, it was a good one nonetheless.

Three pairs of footsteps hurried along the grass, and a moment later, Mathieu, Alfred and Arthur had joined the group. The American was laden down with two sleeping children, as he tried to walk quickly without waking them up.

"Sorry we're late," Mathieu apologised, catching his breath. "William lost his shoes."

A pair of hazel eyes flickered open from where the seven year old boy was clinging onto Alfred's shoulders, and William Jones shot a glare at the Canadian. "Shut it, wanker."

"William!" Arthur chastised, taking the sleeping two year old Adrienne from Alfred's arms and handing her to a shocked Mathieu, who covered his daughter's ears as best he could. "Apologise to Mathieu!"

"What?" The boy looked genuinely confused as he scrambled off his father's back. "You say it all the time."

"I do not!"

"It's true, Artie," Alfred grinned, ruffling Mathieu's hair (he'd adopted him as a younger brother) and smirking at the expression on the Canadian's face. "What was it you called that guy yesterday? A bloody-"

"Yes, all right," Roderich said hastily as the others sat down. "That's enough of that."

"Shhhh!" Alexandra whispered from her father's lap, looking around with a finger to her lips and an accusatory expression. "The song's starting!"

And it was. Antonio was beginning to twang on his guitar, and Gilbert closed his eyes as he leant towards the microphone. It was an unusually slow song for the band to play, but the audience already seemed into it, and Roderich recognised it immediately, although it had been a while since he'd last heard it.

"Been dazed and confused for so long it's not true, wanted a woman, never bargained for you, lots of people talkin', few of them know," Gilbert sang, his voice strong as usual, but a lot steadier. He looked up as he sang, his eyes opening to seek out Roderich through the crowd, and he smiled just for him.

Roderich wouldn't have called it "their song", because most of the lyrics didn't really fit with their relationship. However, those few lines that seemed to match perfectly had echoed throughout the years. The song had been played at their wedding almost nine years ago, and Gilbert had been known to sing it in the shower on several occasions, whether he was alone or not. It had been blaring through the speakers the first time they went to a club together, despite the fact that it hardly matched the place's vibe. The song had even been playing one of the times that their "make-out sessions" had led to much more, and in the first car journey that they took with their new-born children.

No, Roderich wouldn't have called it "their song". But it certainly had some significance.

After an hour or so, the set was coming to an end, and Roderich and Mathieu took this as their cue to go backstage, taking Lovino along with them. The children had started to grow tired, and had been left in the "responsible care" of Elizabeta, Laura, Arthur, and Alfred, so Roderich mentally vowed to get back to them as soon as possible, before Andreas and Alexandra picked up any swear words. Then again, at least Kiku and Heracles, who were generally pretty calm, were nearby.

"Ah, I forgot to tell you," Lovino realised, pulling a crumpled envelope from his jeans pocket. "Feliciano and that potato - Ludwig, I mean - asked me to give this to you and Gilbert," he announced, handing the envelope to Roderich.

"What does it say?" Roderich asked, curious, even though the couple often received many letters from the two twenty-eight year olds.

Lovino shrugged. "How should I know? Probably just another letter about how sorry they are that they couldn't be here, but they couldn't leave Italy," he muttered, a disdainful expression on his face - probably because Feliciano and Ludwig had visited England eighteen times in the last seven years. Where they got the money to do this, nobody seemed to know.

"Thank you," Roderich said sincerely, tucking the letter neatly into his own pocket.

"Oh, my sweet Canadian!" Francis cried dramatically, appearing as soon as they got backstage and handing the rose to a bright pink Mathieu. "You came to see me!"

"Of course I did!" Mathieu replied, abashed as Francis enveloped him in a swooping hug.

"Hello, Roddy and Lovi," Francis greeted the others with a charming smile, despite Lovino's protests at the nickname. "Your husbands will be here shortly!"

Antonio appeared next, only to be cornered by Lovino who began to button up the Spaniard's shirt with a red face, muttering angrily all the way. Antonio just laughed, kissing the Italian's cheek and announcing how good it was to see him.

Finally, Gilbert appeared, his eyes lit up as he buzzed with energy. "Roddy!"

"Hello, Gilbert," Roderich replied, returning the hug that Gilbert bestowed upon him.

"How was it? We were awesome, weren't we?" Gilbert asked with a smug smirk.

"Yes," Roderich indulged him, smiling at Gilbert's grin. "You all did very well. The crowd seemed to think so, too."

"How are the kids?" Gilbert asked as he led Roderich away, placing his bass down and beginning to pack up his things.

"They're fine. Elizabeta's looking after them."

Gilbert turned back to Roderich with wide eyes, sucking in a breath. "We need to get back there as soon as possible."

"Yes, I know," Roderich agreed as Gilbert wrapped his arms around him once again, smiling as he was kissed on the lips.

"Did they show up?" Gilbert asked quietly, gesturing out to the direction of the crowd, looking slightly concerned.

Roderich laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "No, and good riddance."

Stefan and Nadine Edelstein hadn't been seen by their son since that day at the hospital, although both Gilbert and Elizabeta had reported seeing them multiple times. They hung around like ghosts, standing on street corners and staring through windows, but both Gilbert and Elizabeta had refused to get restraining orders.

"We won't let them scare us," Gilbert had told Roderich firmly yet softly one night, when he'd walked back home from band practice to see Stefan hanging around the end of the road. "We won't give them the satisfaction."

Roderich wasn't sure that he agreed with this - he knew what his parents were capable of - but now, thirteen years after they'd officially disowned their son, they were both approaching sixty and had been seen less and less over the recent years. Besides, he trusted Gilbert not to let anything happen, and Gilbert was more than happy to rise to the task.

"They'll give up one day," Gilbert smiled reassuringly, his voice gentle. "I don't know what they're trying to achieve, but they have no hold over you anymore."

"I know," Roderich replied, leaning into his husband's chest. "I just wish they'd _stop_."

"It's okay. We're okay. If they do anything, we'll just get Tino to arrest them," Gilbert smiled, although it was hard to imagine the tiny Finn arresting anyone, policeman or not. Gilbert kissed Roderich again, before that smug grin returned. "Besides, Roddy, we're both famous musicians now. They probably just want our autographs."

Roderich laughed shakily. "You're a famous musician," he corrected Gilbert.

"No, you are too, Specs," Gilbert insisted. "That music hall of yours is getting _big_ , you know."

"Not as big as your band," Roderich replied. "You've been in the media spotlight for ten years now, and you still have record companies fighting over you."

"What can I say?" Gilbert asked, grinning. "Life's just that awesome."

He leant in to kiss Roderich again, ignoring Francis and Antonio's mock-disgusted cries of "get a room!", ignoring the noise and the world around them, ignoring, for the moment, everything but each other.

Life was just that awesome, at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you :D

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!  
> Please review - I have to know if this is okay!


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